k**»*i« 




Class, ^^ r^ 
Book )_Sv-^i_i— 



PRESENTED WiT 



— -""--^ * 

PUBLISHED AND FOR SALE BY 

GRIGG & ELLI 



No. 9 N. FOURTH ST., PHILADELPHIA, 
And for Sale by Booksellers generally in the United States. 



The following books are particularly adapted for family read- 
ing, and we do iiope, as our political troubles are ended for 
awhile, that our friends will now settle down to their "sober 
second thoughts," and as " knowledge is power" and "informa- 
tion capital," that instead of being satisfied with the periodical 
trash of the day, they will store their minds with something 
more solid, and for that purpose make a selection from the fol- 
lowing list: 

FAMILY PRAYERS AND HYMNS, adapted to family 

worship, and tables for the regular reading of the Scriptures. By Rev. 
S. C. Winchester, A. M. 1 vol. 12rno. 

THE YOUNG LADIES' AND GENTLEMEN'S' PAR- 

LOUR LIBRARY, 6 vols. 32mo. 

These two beautiful works are particularly adapted to promote the wel- 
fare and happiness of the rising generation. 

^ UNIVERSAL BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY, con- 

taining the Lives of the most Celebrated Characters of every age and nation. 

COWPER AND THOMSON'S PROSE AND POETICAL 

WORKS, complete in 1 vol. 8vo., including two hundred and fifty Letters, 
and sundry Poems of Cftwper, never before published in this country; and ol 
Tiiomson a new and interesting Memoir, and upwards of twenty new poems, 
for the first time printed from his own Manuscripts, taken from a lato edition 
of tlie Aldine Poets, now publishing in London. 

The distinguished Professor Silliman, speaking of this edition, observes, 
"I am as much gratified by the elegance and fine taste of your edition, as 
by the noble tribute of genius and tnoral excellence wliich tliese delightful 
authors have left for all future generations; and Covvper especially, is not 
less conspicuous as a true Christian moralist and teacher, than as a poet of 
great power and exquisite taste." 

GOLDSMITH'S ANIMATED NATURE, in 4 vols. 8vo., 

beautifully illustrated. 

"Goldsmith can never be made obsolete, while delicate genius, exquisite 
feeling, fine invention, the most harmonious metre, and the hapj)iest diction 
are at all valued." 

This is a work that should be in the Library of every fiimily, being writ- 
ten by one of the most talented authors in the Enjrlisb language. 

THE WORKS OF LAURENCK STERNE, in 1 vol. 8vo., 
with a life of the author, written by himself. 



2 VALUABLE BOOKS PUBLISHED BY GRIGG & ELLIOT. 



'Vhv. beauties of this author are so well known, and his errors in style 
and expression so few and far betwecu, that one reads with renewed deliaht 
his driicato tiirnp, &c. ° 

THK POETICAL WORKS OF ROGERS, CAMPBELL 
MONTGOMERY, LAMB, AND KIRK WHITE, complete in 1 vol. 8vo' 
MILTON, YOUiNG, GRAY, BEATTIE, AND COLLINS' 

POETICAL WORKS, complete in 1 vol. 8vo. 

THE POETICAL WORKS OF MRS. HEMANS 



com- 



plete in 1 vol. 8vo 

WZT This is a new and complete edition, with a splendid engraved likeness 
of Mrs. Hemans, on steel. 

"As no work in the Kn/Iish languag-e can be commended with more con- 
fidence, it will arorue bad taste in a female in this country to be without a 
complete edition of the writinjrs of one who was an honor to lier sex and 
to huinanit}', and whose productions, from first to last, contain no syllable 
calculated to call a blush to the cheek of modesty and virtue. Tliere is 
moreover, in Mrs. Hemans' poetry a moral purity, and a religious feelino-] 
which commend it, in an especial manner, to the discriminating readt-r! 
No parent or guardian will be under the necessity of imposing roslrictions 
with regard to the free perusal of every production emanating from this 
gifted woman. There breathes throughout the whole a most eminent cxeinp- 
tion from impropriety of thought or diction; and there is at times a pen- 
sivenesa of tone, a winning sadness in her more serious compositions, which 
tells of a soul which has been lifted from the contemplation of terrestrial 
things, to divine communings with beings of a purer world." 

LECTLIRKS ON SCRIPTURE FACTS AND PROPHE. 

CY. By W. B. Collyer, D. D. In 1 vol. 8vo. A new edition of this dis- 
tinguished author's works. Few persons will rise from the perusal of this 
book without acknowledging, that their thoughts and affections have been 
elevated by the fervent and pious eloquence of the writer. 

THE DAUGHTER'S OWN BOOK; Or Practical Hints 

from a Father to his Daughter. In 1 vol. 18mo. 

This is one of the most practical and truly valuable treatises on the cul- 
ture and discipline of the female mind, which has hitherto been published 
in this country, and the publishers are very confident, from the great demand 
for this invaluable little work, that ere long it will be found in the library 
of every youQg lady. 

SENECA'S MORALS— By way of abstract to which is 

added, a Discourse under the title of an After-Thought, by Sir Roger L'Es- 
trangc, Knt. A new fine edition, in I vol. 18mo. 

A copy of this valuable little work should be found in every family library. 

MALTE-BRUN'S NEW AND ELEGANT QUARTO AT- 

^LAS; containing forty colored maps. 

The Atlas is particularly adapted for Colleges, Academies, Schools, and 
priy;itc families. There is no work that ever was published in this country 
which has received more numerous and fluttering recommendations. 

THE AMERICAN CHESTERFIELD; or "Youth's Guide 

to the Way to Wealth, Honor, and Distinction," &.C.: containing also a 
complete treatise on the art of Carving. 

" VVe most cordially recommend the American Chesterfield to general 
attention; but to young persons particularly, as one of the best works of the 

/ 



VALUABLE BOOKS PUBLISHED BY GRIGG &. ELLIOT. 



kind that has ever been published in this country. It cannot be too highly 
appreciated, nor its perusal be unproductive of Katisfaction and uselulncss." 

BYRON'S WORKS, complete in 1 vol. 8vo., including all 

his Suppressed and Attributed Poetns. 

(O" This edition has been carefully compared with the recent London 
edition of Mr. Murray, and made complete by the addition 'of more than 
fifty pages of poems heretofore unpublished in England. Among tiicse there 
are a number that have never aj)pearcd in any American editionj and the 
Pui)Iishcrs believe they are warranted in saying, that this is the most complete 
edition of Lord Bi/ron's Poetical Works ever published in the United Slates. 

RENNET'S (Rev. John) LETTERS TO A YOUNG LA- 
DY, on a variety of subjects calculated to improve the heart, to form the 
manners, and enligiiten the understanding. "That our Daughters may be 
as polished corners of the Temple." 

I'he publishers sincerely hope, {for the happiness of mankind,) that a copy 
of this valuable little work will be found the companion ol every young lad_y, 
as much of the happiness of every family depends on the proper cultivation 
of the female mind. , , .. . . 

SAY'S POLITICAL ECONOMY. A Treattse on Political 

Economy, or the Production, Distribution, and Consumption of Wealth. By 
.Tcan Baptisle Say. Fifth American edition, with Additional Notes, by C. 
C. Biddle, Esq., in I vol. 8vo. 

The editor of the North American Review, spcakmg of Say, observes, 
that "he is the most popular, and perhaps the most able writer on Political 
Economy, since the time of Smith." 

CARPENTER'S NEW GUIDE. Being a complete Book 

of Lines, for Carpentry, Joinery, &c., in 1 vol. 4to. 

The Theory and Practice well explained, and fully exemplified on eighty- 
four copperplates, including some observations, &c., on the strength of 
Timber; by Peter Nicholson. Tcnlh edition. This invaluable work super- 
seded, on its first ai)pearance, all existing works on the subject, and still 
retains its original celebrity. 

Every Carpenter in our country should possess a copy of this invaluable 
work. 

A TREATISE ON CATTLE, their Breeds, Manngcment 

and Diseases; published under the superintendence of the Society for the 
Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. With numerous plates. 1 vol. 8vo. 
Tliis is an invaluable work to Farmers. 

WEElMS' LIFE OF GEN. MARION. 

WEKMS' LIFE OF GEN. WASIJING TON. 

THE IMPORTANCE OF FAMILY RELIGION: with a 

selection of Hymns and Prayers, adapted to Family Worship, and Tables for 
the regulnr Reading ot^ tlie Scriptures. By the Rev. S. G. Winchester, A. M. 
The subject is one of incalculable practical importance, and is treated in a 
masterly manner. It contains an able, elai)orate and highly instructive 
Essay on the obligation, nature and importance of Family Religion; and 
we hope, ere long, it will bo found in the Library of every family. 

.JOSEPIIUS'S (FLAVIUS) WORKS. By the late William 

Whiston, A. M. From the last London edition, complete. 

As a matter of course, every family in our country has a copy of the 
Holy Bible— and as the presumption is, the greater portion often consult its 



VALUABLE BOOKS PUBLISHED BY GRIGG & ELLIOT. 



pagncs, we take the liberty of saying to all those tliat do, that th** perusal o( 
the writings of Josephua will be found very inleresting and instructing-. 

All those who wisli to possess a beautiful and correct copy of this invalu- 
able work, would do well to purcliasc this edition. It is for sale at all the 
principal bookstores in the United States, by country merchants generally 
in the Soutl)crn and Western States. 

BURDER'S VILLAGE SERMONS, or 101 plain and short 

DiscouFses on the principal doctrines of the Gospel; intended for the use of 
families, Sunday schools, or coujpanies assembled for religious instruction 
in country villages. By George jiurdcr. To which is added, to each Ser- 
mon, a short Prayer, with some general prayers for ftimilics, schools, &,e., 
at the end of the work. Complete in 1 vol. 8vo. 

These sermons, which are characterized by a beautiful simplicity, the en- 
tire absence of controversy, and a true evangelical spirit, have gone through 
niany and large editions, and been translated into several of the continent;tl 
lan'ruao-cs. "They liave also be(;n the honored means not only of convert- 
ing many individuals, but also of introducing the Gospel into districts, and 
even into parish churches, where before it was comparatively unknown." 
"This work fully deserves the immortality it has attained." 
This is a fine library edition of this invaluable work, and when we say 
that it should be found in fhe possession of every family, we only rcitcr;;te 
the sentiments and sincere wishes of all who take a deep interest in the 
eternal welfare of mankind. 

BIGLAND'S NATURAL HISTORY OF ANIMALS, 12 
'"^SlGLAND'S NATURAL HISTORY OF BIRDS, 12 co- 
° PERSIA. A DESCRIPTION OF. By Shoberl, with 12 

colored plates. 

These works are got up in a very superior •st3'le, and well deserve an 
introduction to the shelves of every' family library, as they are very interest- 
ing, iitid pirtienlarlv adapted to the juvenile class of readers. 

HIND'S POPULAR vSYSTEM OF FARRIERY, taught 

on a new and easy plan, being a Treatise on all the diseases and accidents 
to which the Horse is liable. With considerable additions and improve- 
ments, ada|)ted particularly to this country, by Thomas IVI. Smith, Vete- 
rinary Surgeon, and Member of the Loudon Veterinary Medical Society, in 

'maSON'S POPULAR SYSTEM OF FARRIERY; com- 

prising a general description of the noble and useful animal the Horse, 
together with the quickest and simplest mode of fattening; necessary treat- 
inent while undergoing excessive fatigue, or on a journe}'; the construction 
and management of stables; dirtVrent marks for ascertaining the age of a 
Horse: also, a concise account of the diseases to which the Horse is subject; 
with such remedies as long experience has proved to be clYectual. By 
Richard Mason, M. 1")., forn»erly of Surrey Co., Va. Ninth edition, with 
additions. To which is added, a Prize Essay on Mules, and An Appendix 
containing observations and recipes for the cure of most of the common 
disleni|)ers incident to Horses, Oxen, Cows, Calves, Sheep, Lanibs, Swine, 
Dogs, etc. &c. Selected from ditlerent authors. Also, an Addenda, contain- 
ing Annals of the Turf, American Slud Book, Rules for Training, Racing, 

_ 



"1 

VALUABLE BOOKS PUBLISHED BY GRIGG & ELLIOT. 5 



The publishers liave received numerous flattering notices of^ tlic great. 
()r;iclical value of these works. The distinguished editor of the American 
Farmer, speaking of tliem, observes — " We cannot too highly recommend 
hese l)()o!vs, and thcrer>re advise every owner of a liorse to obtain them." 

NEW SONG BOOK.— Grigg's Southern and Western Song- 
tcr; h^ing a choice collection of the most fashionable songs, many oi 
vhich arc original, in 1 vol. IBmo. 

Great care w;)s taken in the selection, to admit no song that contained, 
in tlic slightest degree, any indelicate or improper allusions, and with great 
)r()|)riety it may claim the title of "The Parlour Song Book or Songster." 
The immortiil Shakspcare observes — 

"The man that hath not music in himself. 
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, 
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils." 

RUSH ON TOE MfND. New fine edition. Tins work is 
valuable and highly interesting for intelligent readers of every profession; 
it is rei)lete with curioiis and acute remarks, both medical and metaphy- 
sical, aT)d deserves particular praise for the terseness of its diction. 

A DICTIONARY OF SELECT AND POl^ULAR QUO- 

TATIONS, which are in daily use: taken from the Latin, French, Greek, 
Spanish, and Italian languages; together with a copious collection of Law 
maxims and Law terms; translated into English, with illustrations, historical 
;ind idiomatic. Sixth American edition, corrected with additions. 1 vol. 
12mo. 

In preparing this sixth edition for the press, care has been taken to give 
ihe work a tiiorougli revision, to correct some errors which had before 
escaped notice, and to insert nmny additional Quotations, Law maxims and 
Law terms. In this state it is offered to the public in the stereotype form. 
This little work sliould find its way into every family library. 

CURRENCY AND BANKING. A Treatise on Currency 

and Banking. By Condy Raguet, I^L.D. 1 vol. 12mo. 

This is a new and very popular work on that important subject. 

DR. EBERLE ON DISEASES AND PHYSICAL EDU- 

CATION OF CHILDREN, for family use. 1 vol. 8vo., new ed. 

O" This is a new edition much improved, containing a table exhibiting 
the doses of medicines, according to the different ages. 

DR. EBERLE'S PRACTICE OF MEDICINE FOR FA- 

MIIiY USK. 2 vols 8vo. 
HEBER, POLLOK and CRABBE'S POETICAL WORKS 

complete in 1 vol. 8vo. 

"Among the beautiful, valuable, and interesting volumes which the enter- 
prise and taste of our publishers have presented to the reading community, 
we have seldom met with one which we have more cordially greeted and 
can more confidently and satisfactorily recommend, than that, embracing 
in a single, substantial, well bound, and handsomely printed octavo, the |)o- 
elical works of Bishop Heber, Robert Pollok, and the Rev. George Crabbc. 
What a constellation of poetic ardor, glowing piety, and intellectual bril- 
liancy! Such writers require no eulogy. Their fiine is established nnrl 
universal. The sublimity, p ithos, and piety of all these writers, have given 
them a rank at once with the lovers of poetry and the friends of religion, 
unsurpassed perhaps by that of any other recent authors in our language. 



VALUABLE BOOKS PUBLISHED BY GRIGG & ELLIOT. 



A more delightful addition could scarcely be made to the libra.T^flhTT^ 
ticmun or lady of taste and refinement. The prize poems, hymn "and" 
M.Kscdlancous vvnungs of Bishop Heber, the 'Course of Time' by Vol W. 
and the rich various, and splendid productions of the licv. Georire On h 
are among the standard works, the classics of our langunffc. To oh .in' 
and preserve them ,n one volume, cannot but be a desirable%bject to the 

l^mily " '' ^"^ ^°^ '^ '"'^^ ^"^ ^''""'^ '" ^''"^ ^'^'''y "^^"^'y 

A writer in the Boston Traveller holds the following lanffuage with refer 
cncc to these valuable editions: ^ ^ 

Mr. Editor— 1 wish, without any idea of puffing, (o say a word or Uvn 
upon the "Library of English Poets" that is liow published^at Sadl "a 
by Gngg & E hot; it ,s certainly, taking into ionsideration tli^e Snt' 
manner in wh.ch it is printed, and the reasonable price at which i is aK 
cd to purchasers, tiie best edition of the modern British Poets that has ever 
been published in this country. Each volume is an octavo of abou 500 
pages double columns stereotyped, and accompanied with fine eng vin's 
...d biographical sketches, and most of them are reprinted from GaL',anr's 
French edition As to its value we need only mention that it cont at" t ^c 
entire works of Montgomery, (Jray, Beattie, Collins, Byron, Cowper Thorn 
son. Burns, Milton, Young, Scott, Moore, Coleridge, Rogers,' SnbdT 
Land,, emans. Icbcr, Kirk While, Crabbe, the MisccIlaLous vCks of 
Goldsmith and other martyrs of the lyre. The publishers are doing a !,xa 
service by their publication, and their volumes are almost in as great^dcmand 
as the fashionable novels of the day, and they deserve to be so^ for they a" e 
certainly printed in a style superior to that in which we ha;c beforc^r d 
the works of the English Poets. "''" 

V\^r ^^E)J/:^^*^S OF HISTORY, or Examples of the Op- 
posite Eifects of Virtue and Vice, for the use of Schools and Families wilh 
Questions f^.r the Examination of Students. 1 vol. 12mo., wilh plates 

I h s work IS introduced into our IJigh School. It is particularly adapted 
for a Class Book in all our male and female Sen.inaries,\tc ^ 

" VVe have received from the publishers, Messrs. Grigg & Elliot a verv 
nea duodecimo volume, entitled ^T/>e Bcavlies of HiUorv- or e\^Z\1 
of the opposite efF-cts of Virtue and Vice, drawn ion. rl^l^if^^ Afto ' a 
careful examination of this book, we can conscientiously recommend it to 
parents and teachers as a most meritorious performance.^ There a e he c 
eol cctcd, within a narrow compass, the n;ost striking examples of individual 
virtue and vice which are spread forth on the png?s of history, or re re 

t"e Puid^n'c"";"' ^'^""''^^• 1^ '" "°^'"^^ '^'•^^•^'^^ «-' reeo,?:;nendcd br 
the suidance of youth; and in the most impressive manner is he taught to 
conquer the degrading impulses which lower the standard of the hun a 
character. We have not lately met with a volume which, in design n 
execution, seemed so acceptable as this. The book, moreover, is hand 
somcly got up, and illustrated with wood engravings " 

GRIMSflAW'S LADIES' LEXICON, and Parlour Com- 
panion; containing nearly every word in the English language, and exhi- 
h.l.ng the plurals of nouns and the participles of^crbs, being also particu. 
h,rly adapled to the use of Academies and Schools. By William Gri Xw 
Esq, author of the Gentlcnen's Lexicon &c ^nmshaw, 

THE GEiNTLEMEN'S LEXi'cON, or Pock.t Dictionary; 

containing nearly every word in the English language, and exhibiting thJ 



VALUABLE BOOKS PUBLISHED BY GR IG G ^ ELLIOT. 7 



icon. ine pccuiiaruy auu „ iTh^v rliffcr from al prcccdiitj^ 

;;::.":nd n'l'Trdltbtnexduded which ^ rc,u,red e.th« .„ epistolary 
composition or conversalion.'" 

TU)OK OF POLITENESS.— The Gentleman and Lady's 

R o of Politeness and Propriety of Deportment. Decl>cated to the Youth 
o^b th sex s By Madame' CelLrt. Translated from the S.xth Fan. cd.- 
tix,n, enlarged arid improved. Fifth Amencan edition. 

School Books. 

Grimshaw's History of England, - 
Grimshaw's Questions to do. - 
Grimshaw's Key to do. • 

Grimshaw's History of Rome, 
Grimshaw's Questions to do. - 
Grimshaw's Key to do. - " 

Grimshaw's History of the United States, 
Grimshaw's Questions to do. - 
Grimshaw's Key to do. - 

Grimshaw's History of Greece, 
Grimsh.iW's Questions to do. - 
Grimshaw's Key to ^do. ^ 

Grimshaw's History of France, 
Grimshaw's Keys and Questions to do. 
Grimshaw's History of Napoleon, - 
Grimshaw's Keys and Questions to do. 

Beauties of History, new ed., - 

The Young Gentlemen's Lexicon, - 

The Young Ladies' Lexicon, - - , ,. . 

Conversations on Natural Philosophy, Jones edition 

Conversations on Chemistry, Jones' edition, 

Maltc-Brun's New College and Family Atlas 
Maps, 4to., 

Virgil Delphini, 

Horace Delphini, - - - 

Hutchinson's Xenophon, with notes, 

Torrey's First Book for Children, - 

Torroy 3 Pleasing Companion, 

Torrey's Moral Instructor, . - - 

ISmiley's Table-book, 
Smiley's Arithmetic, . . - - 
Smiley's Key to do. 



with 



40 



colored 



bound 
stitched. 
stitched, 
bound, 
stitched, 
stitclied. 
bound, 
gtitciied. 
stitched, 
bound, 
stitched, 
stitched, 
bound, 
stitched, 
bound, 
stitched, 
sheep, 
sheep, 
sheep, 
bound, 
bound. 

bound. 

bound. 

bound. 

bound. 

stitched. 

half-hound. 

half-bound. 

stitched. 

bound. 

bound. 






8 VALUABLE BOOKS PUBLISHED BY GRIGG & ELLIOT. 



Smiley's Geogn-.phy and Atlas, new edition, 

Murray's Exercises, 12mo. half-bound. 

Murri'.y's K(.y to do. > . - S - . . half-bound. 

First Reading Lessons. 

Bentley's American Instructor. 

IJegcwiscli's Introduction to Historical Chronology. 

VVecnis' Marion. 

VVeems' VVashing[ton. 

Life ol'k.ieneral Harrison. 

Life of General Jackson. 

First Steps in Reading. 

A Biographical Dictionary for Schools. 

Medical Books. 

Dispensatory of the United States, by Drs. Wood and Bache, new edition, 
much enlarged, - - bound. 

Eberle's Practice of Medicine, 2 vols., new edition, 

Ebcrle's Therapeutics, 2 vols., 4lh edition, .... bound. 

Ebcric on Diseases and Physical Educiition of Children, 1 vol. 
O" This is a new edition much improved, containing a table exhibiting 
the doses of medicines, according to the different ages. 

Eberle's Notes for Students, new edition. 

Buylc and Hollard's Manual of Anatomy, - - . . bound. 

Rush on the Mind, new edition, bound. 

Vclpeau's Treatise on Midwifery, new improved edition, by Dr. Meigs. 

%* The above are used as text books in the principal medical schools in 
the United States. 

%* All the new Medical Works received and for sale as soon as published 
0n the inost reasonable terms. 

liR^r filooks. 

Toller on Executors, - - - - - .' - • - bound. 
Condensed English Chancery Reports, in 12 vols. 8vo. 

The 1st, 2d and .3d vols, of this work being out of print, we 
now sell as complete sets from the 4th inclusive. 
Russell's Chancery Reports, 1st vol. bound. 

0° This volume completes Condensed Chancery Reports to 
the present time. 
Elarris's Modern Entries, newly arranged by II. Davey Evans, 

Esq., of the Baltimore Bar, in 2 vols. 8vo. - - - bound. 

With a very general assortment of Law Books. 

*^* Public, private, and social libraries, and all who purchase to sell 
utrain, supplied on the most reasonable terms with every article in the Book 
and Stationary line; including new novels, and all new works in every de- 
partment of literature and science. All orders will be thankfully received 
and promptly attended to. 



Pasre 57. 




Serjeant Jasper, rescuing the Amencan 



prisoners. 



OF 

GEN. FRANCIS MARION, 

A CELEBRATED 
IN THE 

AGAINST THE 

BRITISH AND TORIES 
IN SOUTH CJIROLINA AND GEOR^M 

BY BRIG. GEN. P. HORRY, OF MARION's BRIGADE ; 
AND M. L. WEEMS. 



**0n Vernon's Chiev, why lavish all our lays ; 

*• Come, honest Muse, and sin^ great Marions praise/ 



BTEREOTYrED BY L. JOHNSON 

PHILADELPHIA : 
PUBLISHED BY JOSEPH ALLEN, 
AND SOLD BY GRIGG & ELLIOT. 

Ko. y North Foil fill btrcot. 



/(?> 






Eastern District of Pcnnsijlmnia, to ml ' 

" I^Jk ^i^^ ""^i^^"' ^'■^''^' ^^^"«°' ^ celebrated parUsan offi«»r m 

« cL^'^^^^Tr ^ ^''' "°^^^ ^^ British ai^ ToS^Su ™ 

"Carobna and Georg^ia. By Bri^cUer General P. uTrr^ oi 

» MarH)n's Bn-ade, and iVI. L. Weenu. ^* °* 

" On Vernon's Chief, why lavish all our lays ? 

Lome, honest Muse, and sin- great Marion's maise " 

.ors of such Cop.es, durmg tho times Uiereia mentionea--AX^ 
to th. Act, eautled, "An Act supplementary to an AH If .f . 

D.CALDWELL, 
Clerk of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania 

4li!;^* 7^^ ""^7^. Copy-Rio;ht has been purchased by Josei>V 
Allen, and u regularly transferred to him. ^ ^ 






j*f 



PREFACE. 



" THA T mine enemi/ rvould write a book^"* — This, 
in former times, passed for as sore an evil as a good 
man could think of wishing to his worst enemy. — 
Whether any of my enemies ever wished me so great 
an evil, I know not. But certain it is, I never dream- 
ed of such a thing as writing a book ; and least of all 
a xvar look. What, I ! at man here under the frozen 
zone and grand climacteric of my days, with one foot 
in the grave and the other hard by, to quit my prayer 
book and crutches^ (an old man's best companions'^ 
dnd drawing my sword, flourish and fight over again 
the battles of my youth. 

The Lord forbid me such madness ! But what cai 
on€ do when one's friends are eternally ttazing him, 
as they are me, and calling out at every whipstitch 
and corner of the streets, " Well^ biit^ sir, where^^ 
Marion? whereas the history of Marion^ that tvehawi 
sc long been looking for .^" 

*Twas in vain that I told them I was no scholar » 
fto historian. " God," said I, " gentlemen, has maide 
* many nen of many minds ;' one for this thing and 
another for that. But I am morally certain he nev*;< 
made me for a writer. I did indeed once understrmd 
something about the use of a broad-sword ; but as v^ 
a ])en, gentlemen, that's quite another part of speech. 
The difference betv/een a broad-sword and a pen, 
s^entlemen, is prodigious ; and it is not every oflGicer. 
let me tell you, gentlemen, who can, like Cs&sar, figb 
A2 



^^ PREFACE. 



you a great battle with his sword to-day, and fi^ht it 
over agam as elegantly with his pen to-morrow " 

Burn Cxsarr replied they, ^^ and his book too. 
V^l^ere-Lvmten in letters of gohl.we would not read 
It. What have honest republicans like us to do with 
such an ambitious cut-throat and robber? Besides 
, your reasoning about scholarship, and fine style 
i all that, does not, begging your pardon, apply at 
*11 to the case in hand. Small subjects indeed re- 
quire great writers to set them off; but threat Sub- 
jects require no such artificial helps : like mie beau- 
ties, tiiey shine most in the simplest dress. JMarir.n 
IS one of this sort : great in his simplicity. Then 
give us Marion— plain, brave, honest Marion ; that's 
all we want, sir. And you can do this better than 
any other man. You have known him longest; have 
tought closest by his side : and can best tell us of his 
noble deeds. And surely now, after all, you can't 
bear to let him die, and all his great actions, and be 
forgotten forever." 

This, I confess, went to the quick, and roused me 
completely. - Hat / Mar'ion forgotten r^ I exclaim- 
ea, Manonjorgottcnl and bif mer No never' 
never! while memory looks back on the dreadful 
clays of the revolution; when a British despot, not 
the NATION, (for I esteem them most generous,) but 
^ proud, stupid, obstinate, despot, trampling the holy 
CHARTER and constitution of Kngland^s realm, issued 
against us, (sons of Britons,) that most unrighteous 
edict, taxation without representation! and th^^n be- 
cause m the spirit of our gallant fathers, we bravely 
opposed him he broke up the very fountains of his 
malice, and let loose upon us everv indescribable, 
ummaginab e curse of civil ivar ; when British ar' 
mips, with their Hessian, and Indian, and tory allies 
i^verran my afflicted country, swallowing up its fruits 
-«d hUmg every part with consternation; when no- 



PREFACE. V 

thing was to be seen but flying crowds, burning 
houses, and young men, (alas! too often,) hanging 
upon the trees like dogs, and old men wringing their 
withered hands over their murtlcred boys, and wo- 
men and children weeping and flying from their 
ruined plantations into the starving woods! When I 
think, I say, of these things, oh my God! how can I 
ever forget Marion, that vigilant, undaunted soldier, 
whom thy own mercy raised up to scourge such 
monsters, and avenge his country's wrongs. 

The Washington of tlie south, he steatlily pursued 
the warfare most safe for us, and most fatal to our 
enemies. lie taught us to sleep in the swamps, to 
feed on roots, to drink the turbid waters of the ditch,, 
to prowl nightly round the encampments of the foe 
like lions round the habitations of the shepherds who 
had slaughtered their cubs. Sometimes he taught us 
to fall upon the enemy by surprise, distracting the 
midnight hour with the horrors of our battle; at other 
times, when our forces were increased, he led us on 
boldly to the charge, hewing the enemy to pieces, 
under the approving light of day. Oh, Marion, my 
friend! my friend! never can I forget thee. Although 
thy wars are all ended, and thyself at rest in the 
grave, yet I see thee still. I see thee as thou wert 
wont to ride, most terrible in battle to the enemies of 
thy country. Thine eyes like balls of fire, flamed be- 
neath thy lowering brows. But lovely still wert thou 
in mercy, thou bravest among the sons of men! For, 
soon as the enemy sinking under our swords, cried 
for quarter, thy heart swelled with commiseration, 
and thy countenance was changed, even as the coun- 
tenance of a man who beheld the slaughter of his 
brothers. The basest tory who could but touch the 
hem of thy garment was safe. The avengers of blood 
stopped short in thy presence, and turned away 
abaslied from the lightning of thine eyes. 



^'* PREFACE. 

^ O that my pen were of the quill of the swan that 
sings for future days ! then shouldst thou, my friend 
receive the fulness of thy fame. The fathers, of the' 
years to come, should talk of thy noble deeds • and 
Ae youth yet unborn should rise up and call thee 

u ^'fi^r 1,^''''^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^f ^^y ^i^tues, they 
should follow thee in the path of thy glory, and make 
themselves the future Marions of their country. 

PETER HORRY. 



THE LIFE 

OF 

GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 



CHAPTER I. 

Short sketch of an extraordinary French couple^ viz, 
the grandfather and mother of our hero — their 
early and happy loves — cruel persecution of the 
priests — final expulsion from their native country-^ 
providential settlement In South Carolina — their 
prosperous and exemplary lives — singular will of 
ohi Marion — and birth of hh grandson^ Francis, 

Immortal may their memory be 
Who fought and bleu for liberty. 

ONE thousand seven hundred and thirty-two was 
a glorious year for America. It gave birth to two of 
the noblest thunderbolts of her wars, George Wash- 
ington and Francis Marion. The latter was born in 
St. John's parish, South Carolina. His fatlier also 
was a Carolinian, but his grandfather was a Hugue- 
not or French Protestant, who lived near Rochelle, 
in the blind and bigoted days cf Louis XIV. 

The priests, who are the persecutors in all countries 
except America, could not bear that he should wor- 
ship God in his own way, or dream of going to heaver 
but in their leading strings, and therefore soon gave 



8 THE LIFE OF 

him to understand, that he must either " recant oi 
trot;'' that is. quit his heresy or his country. 

Too brave to play the hypocrite, and too* wise U 
hope for happiness with a " wounded spirit," he 
quickly made up his mind, and, like faithful Abra- 
ham, forsook his country, to wander an exile in Undb 
unknown. The angel who guides the footsteps or the 
virtuous, directed his course to South Carolina; and 
as a reward for his piety, placed him in a land wnere 
mighty deeds and honours were ripening for his 
grandson. Nor did he wander alone. A cheruh 
m the form of a lovely wife, followed his fortunes' 
and gave him to know, from happy experience, that 
where love is, there is no exile. 

Previous to his expulsion, the priests had, for 
some time, suspected young Marion of what they 
called " heresy.'' But, learning that he was enamour- 
ed of the beautiful and accomplished Mademoiselle 
Louisa D'Aubrey, and like to win her affections, 
they withheld for a while, their sacred thunders 
hoping, that through fear of them, and love of her 
he might yet return to the bosom of the Catholic 
Church, to which she belonged. 

Young Marion's suit to his fair mistress, was for- 
tunate to the full extent of an ardent lover's wishes, 
f he charming girl repaid his passion with such libe- 
ral interest, that, in a short time after the commence- 
ment of their delicious friendship, she received him 
for her husband, in spite of all that wealthier wooeis 
could promise, or frowning friends could threaten. 

The neighbouring clergy now marked the conduct 
of Marion with a keener eye ; and discovering in 
him no symptoms that pointed to recantation, they 
toiously pressed the bishop to enforce against him 
the edict of banishment. 

At this time, Marion with his lovely Louisa, were 
uvmg on a small farm in the vicinity of Rochelle. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 9 

As he walked one afternoon in the m^in Street of 
that cit)% he was very rudely accosted by a couple of 
officers of the holy inquisition, whose looks and dress 
were as dark and diabolical as their employment. 

^*' Fous etes nommes Marion?'''' said they; that is 
" your name is Marion V 

" Yes, gentlemen, that is my name." 

Upon this, they rudely thrust a letter into his hand, 
ftnd turned away, but with such looks as tigers throw 
at a tender lambkin, whose well-guarded fold forbids 
their access. On opening the letter he found as 
follows : 

"Your damnable heresy, well deserves, even in 
this life, that purgation by lire which awfully awaits 
it in the pext. But, in consideration of your youth 
and worthy connexions, our mercy has condescended 
to commute your punishment to perpetual exile. — 
You will therefore, instantly prepare to quit ycuT 
country for ever. For, if after ten days from the 
date hereof, you should be found in any part of the 
Kingdom, your miserable body shall be consumed 
Dy fire, and your impious ashes scattered on the 
w^inds of heaven. 

"Pere Rochelle."* 

Had this dreadful letter been presented to Marion 
even while a bachelor, it would have filled him with 

* I forewarn all my friends from thinlcino; me capable of chargii^ 
this yile persecutin°; spirit on the " Old JV—e of Rome''' exclusively. 
Na, thank Gcxl, I have not so learned human nature. And they who 
are yet to learn, may, by rcadin^^r the " Calholic Layman," soon g;et 
latisfied, that the priests are as apt to abusfi poicer as the people, and 
Ihat, when " dad with a little brief milhorifij,''' Protestants as well as 
Fapists, have committed those cruelties which make milder devils 
Slush. [By way of a note on a note, I would observe, that the " Co- 
fh.ohc Layman,^'' is a very sensible and spirited pamphlet; the pro- 
iuction, it is said, of Mathew Carey, Esq. of Philadelphia, v/hc 
jhong;h a Roman Catholic, has printed more protestant Bibles and 
restameat"! than half the preaehera and printers in America put to- 
^etiier.j 



^0 THE LIFE OF 



1 



horror; for the heart naturally cleaves to the spot 
where it awoke into being, and quits, with tearful 
eyes, the j'cenes among which were spent the first and 
happiest days of life. But ties stronger than those 
of nature bound Marion to his country. His coun- 
try was the country of his Louisa. How could he 
Jive without lier? And how could he hope that she 
would ever consent to leave her parents and friends 
to wander and die with him in hopeless exile? 

But though greatly dejected, yet he did not de- 
spair. He still trusted in that parent-power who 
smiles even under frowns, and often pours his rich- 
est showers from the blackest clouds. Cheered with 
this hope, he put the letter into his pocket, and set 
out to seek his Louisa. , 

With arms fondly interlocked, she had accompa- 
nied him that morning to the gate on the back of the 
gai • ' through which he generally passed when he 
went to ilochelle. Soon a s h»b horse was led up, and 
he about to mount, she snatched the bridle, and 
laughing, vowed he should not go until he had pro- 
mised her one thing. 

^'Well, charmer, what's that?'' 
"Why that you will return very soon." 
**Well, indeed I will; so now let me go." 
*'0h no! 1 am afraid that when you get out of 
sight you will play truant. You must give me secu- 
rity." 

*^Well, Louisa, what security shall I give you?" 
*'Why you must give me that thing, whatever it 
be, that you hold most dear in all the world." | 

"Well done! and now, Louisa, I give you your- 
self, the dearest thing God ever gave me in all this 
world." 

At this her fine face was reddened all over with 
blushing joy, while her love-sparkling eyes, beaming 
on his, awakened that transport which those who . 
have felt it would hot exchange for worlds. Then, 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 11 

;ifter the fond, lengthened kiss, and tender sigh of 
happy lovers parting, he rode off. 

Soon as he was oat of her sight, she turned to go to 
the house. As she passed along the garden, the sud- 
den fancy struck her to adorn the summer liouse with 
evergreens and flowers of the liveliest tints, and 
chere, amidst a wilderness of sweets, to receive her 
returning lover. Animated with this fond sugges- 
tion ui conjugal ajfcction^ (woman's true life,) which 
at every quickened pulse diffused an answering rap- 
ture through the virtuous breast, she commenced her 
pleasing task ; and v.'ith her task she mingled the 
music of her voice, clear and strong as the morning 
lark, and sv/eet as from a heart full of innocence and 
love. 1'he pleasant sounds reached the ear of Ma- 
rion, as he d^ew near the garden. I'hen, entering the 
gate without n(/ise, he walked up, unperceived, close 
to her as she sat all alone in the arbour, binding her 
fragrant flowers and singing the happy hours away 
She was singing her favourite hymn, by Madam 
Guion. 

" That love I sln^, that wondrons love, 

" Which wak'd my rjleciMn::^ dny ; 
** That spread tlio ?ky in azure brii^ht, 

"And pour'd the golden day," ^c. .fcc. 

To see youth and beauty, though in a stranger, 
thus pointing to heaven, is delightful to a pious heart. 
Then what rapture to an enlightened soul to see a 
beloved wife thus communing with God, and becom- 
itng every day more and more angelic I 

Soon as her song was finished, he called out, 
"Louisa !" 

Startled at the sudden call, she turned around to 
the well-known voice, presenting a face on which 
love and sweet surprise had spread those rosy 
charms, wliich in a m.oment banished all his sorrows. 
* My dearest Gabriel," she exclaimed, dropping her 



:x9 THE LIFE OF 

flowers, and running and throwing herself into his 
unns, "here, take back your security! take hack 
your security! and also my thanks ior being such a 
man of honour. But what brought you back, love^ 
so much earlier than you expected ?" 

Here the memory of that latal letter \yeni: like a 
dagger to his heart, bleaching his manly cheeks. 

He would have evaded the question; but in vain, 
for Louisa, startled at the sudden paleness of his 
looks, insisted the more earnestly to know the cause. 

He delayed a moment, but conscious that the se- 
cret must soon come out, he took the letter from his 
pocket, and with a reluctant hand ])ut it into hers. 

Scarcely had she run through it, which she did 
with the most devouring haste, when she let it drop 
from her hands, and faintly articulating, " Ah, cruel 
priest !" she fell upon his bosom, which she bathed 
with her tears. 

After some moments of distress too big for utter 
arce, Marion, deeply sighing, at length broke silence 

" All, Louisa ! and nuist we part so soon !'* 

At this, starting up with eyes suffused with tears 
hut beaming immortal love, slie hustily replied — 
*4 Part!" 

"Yes !" continued he, " part ! for ever part !" 

" No, Marion, n(»! never! never !" 

" Ah! can you, Louisa, leave fatlier and mother, 
lid follow a poor banished husband like me ?" 

" Yes — yes — father, mother, and all the world will 

leave to follow thee, Marion !" 

'"' O blessed ])riest, I thank you ! Good bishop Ro- 
helle, holy father in God, I thank you — your ])crse- 
ution has enriched me above princes. It has dis- 
covered to me a mine of love in Louisa's soul, that 
I never dreamed of Ijetore." 

" My dearest Gabriel, did you ever doubt my 
ove V 

" Pardon me, my Vjve, I never doubted your lovp, 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. J3 

'^h no ! I knew vou loved me. The circumstances un- 
der which you married m.e ^ave me delicious proof 
of that. To have preferred me to so many wealthier 
wooers — to have talren me as a hushand to the para- 
dise of your arms, when so many others v.'ould hax'e 
feent me as a heretic to the purgatory of the inquisi- 
tion, was evidence of love never to be forgotten ; but 
that in addition to all this you should now be so 
ready to leave father and mother, country and kin, to 
frJiow me, a poor wanderer in the earth, without 
even a place where to lay my head " 

" Yes, yes," replied she, eagerly interrupting him, 
•^ that's the very reason I v/ould leave all to follow 
\ oa. For, oh my love ! how could I enjoy father or 
mother, country or kin, and you a wanderer in the 
earth, without a place whereon to lay your head! That 
single thought v/ouid cover my days with darkness, 
and drive me to distraction. But give me your com- 
pany, my Gabriel, and then welcome that foreign land 
with all its shadv forests I ^V''elcome the thatched 
cottage and the little garden filled v/ith the fruits of 
our ov.n fondly mingled toils ! ^t'lethinks, my love, I 
already see that distant sun rising v.'ith gladsome 
beams on our dew-spangled flower:-. I hear the wild 
wood-birds pouring tneir sprightly carols on the 
sv.'eet-scented morning. !My heart leaps with joy to 
their songs. Then, O my husband I if we must go, 
let us go without a sigh. God can order it for out 
good. And, on my account, you shall cast no lin- 
gering look behind. I am ready to follow you 
wherever vou eo. Your God shall be mv God. 
VvTiere you live I will live, and where you die, there 
will I die, and will be buried by your side. Nothing 
my beloved, but death, shall ever part me from you." 

'^ Angelic Louisa!" cried Marlon, snatching her 
to his bosom in transports — " Wondrous woman * 
v/hat do I not owe to God, ever blessed, fcr fjuch 3 
comforter I I (ame juot nov/ from UQchelle vrith trie 



U THE LIFE OF 

foad of a mountain on my heart. You have taken ofl 
that mountain, and substituted a joy most lightsome 
and heavenly. Like a ministering angel, you have 
confirmed me in duty ; you have ended my struggles 
— and by so cheerfully offering to forsake all and fol- 
low me, you have displayed a love, dear Louisa, 
which will, I trust, render you, next to my God, th^ 
cterual complacency and delight of my soul." 

In the midst of this tender scene, a servant came 
running to inform Louisa that her mother, Madame 
D'Aubrey, had just arrived, and was coming to her 
in the garden. This startled our lovers into a pain 
ful expectation of another trial. For as Louisa was 
an only daughter, and her parents doatingly fond of 
her, it was not to be imagined that they would give 
her up without a hard struggle. Seeing the old lady 
coming down the walk towards them, they endea- 
voured to adjust their looks, and to meet her with the 
wonted smile. But in vain. The tumult in their bo- 
soms was still too visible in their looks to escape her 
discernment. She eagerly asked the cause. Their 
changing countenances served but to increase her 
fears and the vehemence of her curiosity. The bi- 
shop's letter was put into her hands. Its effects on 
the good old lady were truly distressing. Not hav- 
ing, like her daughter, the vigour of youth, nor the 
fervours of love to support her, she was almost over- 
come. 

Soon as her spirits were a little recovered, she in- 
sisted that her daughter and son-in-law should in- 
stantly step into her coach and go home with her 
"Your father, my dear,'' said she to Louisa, " your 
father, Monsieur D'Aubrey, will, I am certain, do 
something for us." 

But in this she was wofully mistaken, for Mon- 
sieur D'Aubrey was one of that blind sort who lilacc 
all their religion in forms and notions He coulO 
imile and look very fond upon a man, though not 



CEiX, FRANCIS MARION. U 

over moral, provided tliat man went to his clmrch— 
praised iiis preacher and opinions, and abused every 
body else ; hvit would look very sour on the best man 
on earth who diircred from him in those things. In 
lihort, lie was destitute of love, the sole life of reli- 
gion. And though on account of his wife's importii 
nities and his daughter's repose, he iiad consented to 
her marriage with Marion, \ et he never liked the 
young /icrctic^ :\nd tlierefore he read tl:c order of his 
banishment without anv I>ursc of grief, and made no 
ciffort to revoke the decrees of the church against 
aim, t)ut abandoned him to his fate. 

Such insensibility to her husband's interest dis- 
tressed poor Louisa exceedingly. However, it had 
this good effect: It contributed greatly to lessen her 
regret at pai-ting with lier parents. 

'' O had they but lo\ed me as )'(ju do, m)- Marion," 
said she, ^^ could they have been so indifferent when 
my all was at stake ? No, indeed," continued she, 
""they could not," and burst into tears. 

" Dearest Louisa !" replied lie, tenderly embracing 
her, " would not I lea\e father and mother and all 
for >ou ?" 

'^ ^Vell," returned she, v/itli eves of love, out- 
shining all diamonds, " and am I not going to leave 
all for you ? Yet a few duys and I shnll have no fa- 
ther, no mother, no country; cut ofl' from all the 
world but you, IVlarion I alas ! what will become of 
me if you should prove cruel to me ?" 

'"'' Cruel ! C3uel to )'ou, Louisa ! O my God, can 
that ever be r" 

'■'■ Ah Marion ! but soi^v.- excellent women have left 
father and motlier, ar.d followed their husbands ; and 
yet after all have been cruelly neglecte(«l by them !" 

"■ Yes, Louisa; and God forgive them for that hor- 
rid crime ! But to me such a deed \\-ciC; \.;tterly im- 
pos.sible. I live for happiness, Louisa, I live for hap- 
piness, mv angel. And I fmrl so much liappiness in 
B'2 



16 THK LIFE OF 



loving, that I would as sof)n cease to live as cease to 
love. Some indeed, .sordid cclcbatcs for example^ 
seem to exist without love; hut it is only a seeming 
existence, most joyless and imj)crl'ect. And they bear 
the dulness of a[)athy the better, because they have 
never known the transports of afFection. But with 
me, my charmer, the case is happily different; for at 
the moment I first saw those angel eyes, they infused 
a sweetness into my heart unknown before. And 
those delicious sparks, f'aimed by your loves and 
graces, have now risen to such a ihune of bliss, that 
methinks, were it to go out, my life would go o 
with it. 'i'hen, my Hrst and last, and only sweetheart, 
I pray you, do not fear that I shall ever cease to love 
you : tor indeed that can never be while you con- 
tinue even half as lovelv as you are at present." 

'* Well then, Marion," replied she, fondly pressing' 
his ru(hly cheeks to her heaving bosom, ^Mf it de- 
ponds on me, on my constant alfectionand studious- 
ness to please, you shall never love me less ; bui 
more and more every day of your life." 

Tlie next morning, accompanied by Madame 
1^'Aubrev, Marion and I^ouisa n'turned home in or- 
der to make the best preparations, which the short- 
ness of tlie time woidd allow, to quit their country 
for ever. 

In choosing his place of exile, it has been said that 
Marion's thoughts w(U'e at first turned towards the 
West Indies. But it would appear tliat Heaven had 
decreed for him a different direction. For scarcely 
had he reached his home, much agitated about the 
means of getting off in time, betore a letter was 
brought liim, from an miimate friend in Ilochellc, in- 
forming him that a lar;:i;o ship, chartered for the Ca- 
rol inas, by several weallliy Huguenot families, wasi 
then lying at anchor under the Isle de Jihee. (Grate- 
fully regarding this as a beckoning from heaven, 
they at once commenced their work, and prosecuted 



\ 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. if 

it with such spirit, that on the evening of the ninth 
day they emiiraced their weeping friends and went 
on board the ship. 

It is said that many of the most respectable fami- 
lies of Carolina — the Gourdines, Hugers, Trapiers, 
PosteiL, Horrys, he. came over in the same ship. 

The next day, the clouds began to bank the eastern 
sky, and the winds to whistle from the hills. Pleased 
with the darkly r:[)prmg waters, the ready shijj got 
home hen anchors and h^osed her sails. 1'licn wheel- 
ing befoio the freshening gale, she l>id adieu to her 
native rshvjres, and on wings of wide-spread canvas, 
commenced her foaming course for the western world. 

But though mutual love and confidence in heaven 
were strong in the bosoms of yoimg Marion and his 
Louisa, yet could they not suppress the wc)rkings cyi 
nature, which would indulge her sorrows when look- 
ing back on the lessening shores ; they l^eheld dwin- 
dled to a point and trembling in the misty sky, tliat 
glorious iand, at once their own cradle and the se- 
pulchre of their fathers. 

Some natural tears they shed, but wiped them 
soon, for the earth v/as all before them where to 
choose tlieir place of rest ; and Providence their 
guide. 

But Marion and Ixjuisa did not leave their coun- 
tr)- empty handed. Her Parents, 'tis supposed, gave 
Louisa money, but what sum, after this long lapse of: 
time, is uncertain. Nor does tradition say for how 
much Marlon sold his little farm. But it is well known 
that on their arrival in Carolina, they went up into the 
country, and bought a plantation on Goose creek, near 
Charleston, v/here their dust now sleeps, after a long 
life endeared !jy mutual love, and surrounded by 
Kvery oomfort that industry and prudence can be- 
stow. 

We have said that Marion left his country for the 
Bake of his religion; which appears to have been of 



18 THE LIFE OF 

that cheerful sort for which a wise man would make 
any sacrifice. It was the religion of the gospel, that 
blessed philosophy which asks not a face of gloom, hut 
a heart of joy. And thereunto enjoin a supreme love 
of God, and a close walk with him in a pure and be- 
nevolent life. From this, the genuine spring of all the 
sweetest charities and joys of life, Marion derived 
that cheerfulness which appears never to have failed 
him. Even in his last will, where most men fancy 
they ought to be gloomy as the grave whither they 
are going, his cheerfulness continued to shine with 
undiminished lustre. It was like the setting. of a 
cloudless sun : which, after pouring its fattening 
beams on the fields of a livelong summer's day, goes 
down in smiles to rise a brighter beauty on another 
day. This will is certainly an amiable curiosity, and 
as it may be of service to the reader, by showing him 
how free and easy a good life makes a man with 
death, I will record it : at least the principal features 
of it, as I got them from the family. 

After having, in the good old way, bequeathed 
" his soul to God who gave it,'' and " his body to the 
earth out of which it was taken," he proceeds in the 
manner following : 

In the fr.it place, as to debts, thank God, I owe 
none. And therefore shall give my executors but 
little trouble on that score. 

Kiccondly — As to the poor, I have always treated 
them as my brethren. My dear family will, I know, 
follow my example. 

Thirdly — As to the wealth with which God has 
been pleased to bless me and my dear Louisa and 
children, lovingly we have laboured together for it — ' 
lovingly Ave have enjoyed it — and now, witJi a glad 
and grateful heart do I leave it among them. 

He then proceeds to the distribution. Liberally to 
his children: but fur more so to his wife — and at 
ihe end of each bequest assigns his reasons, viz. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 10 

I give my ever beloved Louisa all my ready money 

that she may never be alarmed at a sudden call. 
L give her all my fat calves and lambs, my pigs and 

poultry — that she may always keep a good table. 
I give her my new carriage and horses — that she 

may visit her friends in comfort. 
I give her my family bible — that she may live above 

the ill tempers and sorrows of life. 
I give my son Peter a hornbook — for I am afraid he 

will always be a dunce. 

But Peter was so stung with this little squib, that 
he instantly quit his raccoon hunting by nights, and 
betook himself to reading, and soon became a very 
iensible and charming young man. 

His eldest son, who, after his father, was named 
Gabriel, married a Miss Charlotte Corde, by whom 
he had six children — Esther, Gabriel, Isaac, Benja- 
min, Job, and our hero Francis, the least as well as 
the last of the family. As to his sister Esther, I 
have never heard what became of her ; but for his 
four brothers, I am happy to state, that though not 
formidable as soldiers, they were very amiable as 
citizens. They bought farms — proved their oxen — 
mar ied wives — multiplied good children, and thus, 
very unlike our niggardly bachelors, contributed a 
liberal and laudable part to the population, strength, 
and glory of their country. God, I pray heartily, 
take kind notice of all such ; and grant, that having 
thus done his will in this world, they may partake of 
his glory in the next. 



20 THE LIFE OF 

CHAPTER II. i 

Marioii'^'i first appearance — an humble cultivator of 
the earth — the great Cherokee war of 1761 cornea i 
on — volunteers his services to his country — is ap^ ' 
pointed a frst lieutenant in the provincial line—^ 
commands a forlorn hopte — narrowly escapes with 
his life — the Anglo-American and the Indian forces 
engaged — bloody battle — the Indians defeated — 
their country laid waste — peace made — Marion 
retires, 

AMONG the Mohawks of Sparta, it was a constant 
practice on the birth of a male infant, to set a military 
granny to examine him, as a butcher would a veal for 
the market, and if he were found any ways puny, he 
was presently thrown into a horse pond with as little 
ceremony as a blind puppy. Had such been the order 
of the day in 1732, Carolina would never have 
boasted a Marion ; for I have it from good authority 
that this great soldier, at his birth, was not larger 
than a New England lobster, and might easily 
enough have been put into a quart pot. This puny 
appearance continued with him till the age of tM elve, 
when it was removed by the following exiraordinary 
providence. 

On a trip to the West Indies, which his friends put 
him upon for his health's sake, the lirile j^chooner in 
which he was embarked was suddenty ^ittacked by 
some monstrous fish, probably a thom-Kick whale, 
who gave it such a terrible stroke with his tail as 
started a plank. The frightened crew f?t;w to their 
pumps, but in vain ; for the briny llooci noshed with 
such fury into their vessel, that they wei'e glad to quit 
her, and tumble as fast as they could into their little 
jolly boat. The event showed that thU was s»s but 
a leap " out of the frying pan into the fr<;*'' for their 
schooner v/ent down so suddenly as not k* give them 



GEN. FJRANCIS MARION. 21 

time to ta'ie a mouthful of food with them, n^^t even 
so much as a brown biscuit or a pint of water, AftJ^r 
three wretclied days of feverish hunger and thirst, 
they agreed to kill a little cabin dog who had swam 
to them from the schooner just before she sunk. On 
his raw Jle.<ih they feasted without restraint ; but the 
hlood they preserved with more economy, to coo 
their parched lips. In a few days, however, their owi 
blood, for lack of cooling food, became so fiery hot 
as to scald their brain to frenzy. About the tenth 
day the captain and mate leaped overboard, raving 
mad; and the day following the two remaining sea- 
men expired in the bottom of the boat, piteously 
crying to the last for ivater I ivater I God of his 
mercy forgive me, who have so often drank of that 
sweet beverage without grateful acknowledgments ! 
Scarcely v/as this m.elancholy scene concluded be- 
fore a vessel hove in sight, standing directly for the 
boat, as if purposely sent to save the child that was 
tossing in it on the gloomy waves. 

Little Marion was so weak that he could not stir 
nand or foot to climb up the side of the vessel. The 
captain, however, soon had him on board ; and by 
means of chocolate and turtle broth, sparingly given 
him at first, recruited him so fast, that, by the tnne 
he reached his native shores, he was in much better 
health than ever. So that on his return to his friends, 
it was found, as is often the case, that what was at first 
looked on as a great misfortune, had proved a very 
noble blessing. His constitution seemed renewed, his 
frame commenced a second and rapid growth ; while 
his cheeks, quitting their pale suet-coloured cast, as- 
sumed a bright and healthy olive. According to the 
6est accounts that I have been able to ]-)rocure, Ma- 
rion never thought of another trip to sea, but conti- 
nued in his native parish, in that most independent 
and happy of all callings, a cultivator of the earth, 
till his twenty-seventh year. 



1» THE LIFE OF 

A report then prevailing that the Cherokee Indianii 
were murdering the frontier settlers, Marion turned' 
out with his rifle, as a volunteer under governor Lyt- 
tleton. I'he affair, however, proved to be a mere flash 
in the pan : for the Cherokee s finding that things 
were not exactly in the train they wished, sent on a 
deputation with their wampum belts and peace-talks 
to bury the hatchet and brighten the old chain of 
friendship with the whites ; and the good-natured 
governor, thinking them sincere, concluded a treaty 
with them. The troops of course were dismissed, 
and Marion returned to his plantation. 

Scarcely, however, had two years elapsed, before 
the perfidious Cherokees broke out again in a fresh 
place, killing and driving the defenceless inhabitants 
at a most barbarous rate. Marion instantly flew again 
to the governor with the tender of his services to fight 
for his afllicted countrymen. His excellency was sc 
pleased with this second instance of Marion's patriot- 
ism, that he gave him a first lieutenancy in the pro- 
vincial line under the brave captain William Moul- 
trie. The reported force and fury of the Indians 
struck such a terror through the colony, that colonel 
Grant (of the British) with twelve hundred regulars, 
was ordered out on a forced march to succour the 
bleeding frontiers. 

On their way they were joined at Ninety-six, May 
14, 1761, by tv/elve hundred provincials, all men of 
surest aim with the deadlv rifle. 

To draw off" the enemy from their murderous ex-» 
cursions. Col. Grant wisely determined to push tht 
war at once into their own country ; which was no 
sooner discovered by them, than they instantly col- 
lected their whole force to oppose him. The only 
passage into their country was through a dark defile 
or gap in the mountain, which it was resolved should 
be forced as rapidly as possible. A forlorn of thirty 
brave fellows were ordered to explore the dangerous 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 23 

f$2LSs : and Marion, though but a young lieutenant, 
had the honour to be appointed their leader. At the 
head of his command he advanced with rapidity, 
while the army moved on to support him. But 
scarcely had they entered the gloomy defile, when, 
from behind the rocks and trees, a sheet of fire sud- 
denly blazed forth, which killed twenty-one of hi 
men ! With the remainder, he faced about and push 
ed back with all speed ; whereupon great numbers 
of tall savages, frightfully painted, rushed from their 
lurking places, and with hideous yells and uplifted 
tomahawks, pursued and gained upon them so fast 
that nothing but the nearness of the advanced guard 
saved them from destruction. The Anglo-Ameri- 
can army then prepared themselves for a serious and 
bloody conflict. 

An enemy in such force, so well posted, and de- 
fending the only pass in their country, would, thej' 
well knew, light clesperately. And well aware, also, 
what slaughter would follow upon their ov/n defeat, 
they determined to yield the victory only with their 
iives. A long summer's day v/as before them, for the 
sun had just risen above the hills, a bright spectator 
of the coming fight. Then, in high spirits, v/ith jus- 
tice on their side, and an approving conscience, they 
T^heerfully left the event to Heaven. The British ware 
formed in small corps, the more promptly to support 
ihe riflemen, who led the van, and now with wide 
extended wings began to move. In a little time they 
came in sight of the enemy, who appeared flying 
backwards and forwards, as if not well satisfied with 
their ground. The provincial marksmen then rapidly 
advancing, flew each to his tree, and the action began. 
From wing to wing, quite across the defile, the woods 
appeared as if all on Are ; while the incessant crash 
of small arms tortured the ear like claps of sharpest 
thunder. The muskets of the British, like their native 
bull-dogs, kept up a dreadful roar, but scarcely did 



24 THE LIFE OF 

more than bark the trees, or cut off the branches abovn 
the heads of the Indians. While, with far less noise, 
the fatal rifles continued to lessen the numbers of tlie 
enemy. The action was kept up with great spirit for 
nearly two hours, during which the superiority of the 
American riflemen was very remarkably displayed. 
For in that time they lost only fifty-one — whereas of 
the Indians there fell one hundred and three, which 
so disheartened them that they fled and gave up their 
coimtrv to the conquerors, who prepared immedi- 
atelv to enter it. 

Colonel Grant had hoped to surprise their towns, 
but concluding that their swift-footed runners had 
given the alarm, he moved on in slow marches 
through the wilderness towards the settlement?!, 
thinking that by the destruction of their tov/ns and 
corn-fields he should drive them into a disnosition 
foi' peace. * 

Marjoii often spoke of this part of the war, as of a 
transaclioii which he remembered with sorrow. " We 
arrived, said he, in a letter to a friend," at the Indian 
towns in the month of July. As the lands were rich 
and the season had been favourable, the corn was 
(jending under the double weight of lusty roasting 
ears and pods of clustering beans. The furrows 
seemed to rtjoice under their precious loads — the 
fields stood thick with bread. We encamped the first 
night in the woods, near the fields, v/here the whole 
army feasted on the young corn, which, with fat ve- 
nison, made a most delicious treat. 

*' The next morning we proceeded by order of colo- 
nel Grant, to burn dov/n the Indian cabins. Some of 
our men seemed to euioy this cruel work, laughing 
very heartily at the curling flames, as they mounted 
loud crackling over the tops of the huts. But to me 
it appeared a shocking sight. Poor creatures ! thought 
I, we siu-ely need not grudge you such miserable 
habitations. But when v/e came, according to orders^ 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 2d 

to cut down the fields of corn, I could scarcely refrain 
Irom tears. For w/io could see the stalks tliat stood so 
Btately with (Droad green leaves and gaily tasseled 
shocks, filled with sweet milky fluid and flour, the 
staff oi life ; who, I say, without grief, could see 
these sacred plants sinking under our swords with 
all their precious load, to wither and rot untasted in 
their mourning fields ? 

" I saw every where around the footsteps of the 
little Indian children, where they had lately played 
under the shade cf their rustling corn. No doubt they 
had often looked up with joy to the swelling shocks, 
and gladdened v/hen they thought of their abundant 
cakes for the coming winter. rcWhen we are gone, 
thought I, they will return, and peeping through the 
weeds with tearful eyes, will mark the ghastly ruin 
poured over their homes and happy fields, where they 
had so often played 

*^ * JVho did this?'' they will ask their mothers. 

"^ The xuhite people did it.;^ the mothers reply 
* ilie christians did it .'' 

" Thus for cursed Mammon's sake, the followers 
of Christ have sown the hellish tares of hatred in the 
bosoms even of pagan children." 

The reader will, however, v/ith pleasure remember 
that these were the dark deeds chiefiy of a kingly 
government. A gloomy monarch, three thousand 
miles distant, and rolling in all the pomps and plea- 
suies of three millions of dollars per annum, could 
hardly be supposed to know what was passing in the 
American wilds ; but Washington had known. With 
bleeding heart he had often beheld the red and white 
men mingling in bloody light. The horiiors of the 
cruel strife dwelt upon his troubled thoughts ; and 
soon as God gave him pov/er, (as presidi^nt of ik- 
DEPKNDENT America,) he immediately adopted that 
better system which he had learnt from the gospel. 
His successors, Adams, Jeilerson, jind Madisoa, 



26 THE LIFE OF 



have piously pursued his plan. In place of the toma* 
hawk, the plough-share is sent to the poor Indians- 
goods are furnished, them at first cost — ^letters and 
morals are taught among their tribes — and the soul 
of humanity is rejoiced to see the red and white men 
meet together like brothers. 

By this god-like policy, the United States have 
not only saved an immensity of blood and treasure^ 
but are rapidly adding to the population and strength 
of the countiy. 

Now to return to Marion's letter. — "After burn- 
ing twenty towns, and destroying thousands of corn- 
fields,* the army returned to Koewee, where the 
Little Carpenter^ a Cherokee chief, met colonel Grant 
and concluded a peace." The troops were then dis- 
banded: and Marion returned to his plantation in 
St. John's parish, where, with a few well-fed slaves, 
he continued to till his parental acres, occasionally 
amusing himself with his gun and fishing rod, oi 
which he was always very fond. 

* To this day the Indians cannot bear the name of colonel Grant \ 
and whenever they see a drove of horses destroying a corn-field, ihej 
cull out "Gnuit! Grant!" 



1 



CiEN. FRANCIS MARION. 27 



CHAPTER III. 

^f(it r/vVv^vV/T En^knid and America — Marion ap ' 
pointed a c-dpta'in in the Second South Carolina 
rczzmcnt — rTjC'i xv'ith the author on the recrnit'ina 
aervh-c — curious anecdote of lieiU. Charnock and 
captain Johnson — some melanchohj and memorable 
relations. 



I 



MARION continued to tread the peaceful and 
Icasant v/alks of life, as aljove, till the 'heginning of 
Alay, ITTj, wlien, hy a vessel direct from iiobton, 
news v/as l)rou;;ht of th(; gallant battle of Lexington. 
Instantly the whole town and country were in a iianie 
for war, and the leg'slatvu'c being purposely convened, 
hastened to meet the wishes of the people, v, ho were 
clamorous for raising; two rej^iments for the service. 

On bidioting for ofiicers, Marion\s ticket came o..it 
.-ijr a captaincy in the ficcond re;;iment, under com- 
mand of the ijra\ c William Aloultrie. In a little time 
my name was called out as a captain also, in the same 
regiment with Marioii. 'i'his to me, was matter of 
great Jo)-, as 1 had ic-ng courted the friendship of 
Marion, r'or though he was neither liandsoine, nor 
n'itt\-, nor wealtliv, \et he was uni\-er.sally beloved. 
The fairness of liis cliaracter— -his fondness for his 
relations — his Immiuiily to his slaves — arid his 
bravery in the Indian war, had ructde him the darling 
of the coLintr}'. It is not, therefore, to be wondered at., 
that I should have taken such a liking to Marion, but 
v/hy he si'.ould have conceived sucli a partialitv for 
me, that's the question. But it is no business of 
mine to solve it. However, very certain it is, thai 
on the irst moment of our acquaintance, there was 
someTning in" his e)'es .'md looks towards me which 
led me to think there must be truth in the old say- 
ing of" people's falling in lo'.e at f.rst sight." And 
when it is considered, that strong attachments gene- 
2 



28 THE LIFE OF 

rally spring from congenialities, I must confess, that 
the warm and constant friendship of Marion has evei 
appeared to me exceedingly llattering. 

But to return to my narrative. — Our commissions 
as captains, were soon made out and signed by the 
council of safety, the 21st of June, 1775. As we were { 
a couple of flaming patriots, we could not bear to be 
idle a single moment — marching, fighting, killing, 
and taking prisoners, was all that we could think or 
talk of. But as all this nne sport could not be car- 
ried on without men, nor men to be had without re- 
cruiting; recruiting, of course, appeared to be the 
first act and pielogue of our play. 

" But what shall we do for money, captain Ma- 
rion ?" said I. 

" Why," replied he, " we must get it from the as- 
sembly." 

The assembly was accordingly applied to, but alas ! 
" could not help us to a single dollar !" 

I wonder whether posterity will ever muster faitb 
to believe that the gray heads of South Carolina 
without a penny in pocket, ventured to war with 
Great Britain, the nation of the longest purse in Eu- 
rope ? Surely it was of him who pitied young David 
with his maiden sling and pebbles against the giant 
Goliah. 

But though the poverty of the legislature was 
enough to have thrown a (j^nip on spirits of ordinary 
heat, yet to a flaming zeal like ours, it only served as 
water on a fiery furnace, to make it blaze the fierc«;r. 

" Why truly, Horry I" said Marion, ''this looks 
unpromising, but mc must not rnind it my hero. Til 
tell you what — if the assembly can't help us, wt 
must e'en help ourselves ! So come let us try whai 
we can do on cur own credit.'' 

" With all my heart," i re])lied. 

So away M^ent we to borrow money of our friencU 
m Charleston ; I mean hard money. And hard 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 29 

ttloney it was indeed. The gold and silver all ap- 
peared as if it had caught the instinct of water- 
witches, diving at the first flash of the war, to the 
bottom of misers' trunks and strong boxes. For tv/o 
whole days, and with every eifort we could make, 
we collected but the pitiful sum of one hundred dol- 
lars ! However, fully resolved that nothing should 
stop us, we got our regimentals the next morning 
from the tailor's, and having crammed our saddle- 
bags with some clean shirts, a stout luncheon of 
bread and cheese, and a bottle of brandy, we mount- 
ed, and with hearts light as young lovers on a court- 
ing scheme, we dashed off to recruit our companies. 
Our course v/as towards Cieorgetown, .Black River, 
and Grer.t Fedee. Fortune seemed to smile on our 
enterprise ; for by the time we reached Pcdee, we 
lad enlisted thirty-seven men, proper tall fellows, to 
whom we gave furloughs of two days to settle their 
affairs, and meet us at the house of a Mr. ikiss, ta- 
vern-keeper, with whom we lodged. I should have 
told the reader, that we had with us, a very spirited 
young fellow by the name of Charnock, who was my 
lieutenant. 

On the second day, a captain Johnson of the militia, 
came to Bass's, and took lieutenant Charnock aside, 
and after prattling a great deal to him about the 
*' cursed hardship," as he was pleased to call it, " of 
kidnapping poor clodhoppers at this rate," he very 
cavalierly offered him a guinea for himself, and a half 
joe a-piece for Marion and me to let the recruits go. 

Never did a poor silly puppy more completely take 
the wrong sow by the ear, than did Mr. captain John- 
son, in thus tampering with lieutenant Charnock. For 
Charnock, though remarkaljly good natured and po- 
lite among men of honour, could )K)t bear the least 
approach of any thing that looked like rascality. Im- 
mediately, therefore, on hearing this infamous pro- 
positionj he brought Johnson into the dining room 



30 THE LIFE OF 

where Marion and myself were sitting, and, in hiu 
presence, told us the whole affair. 

Oh that my yomig countrymen could all have been 
there, that they might have seen v/hat a pale, trem- 
bling, pitiful figure a detected rascal makes ! I a.w 
sure they could never have lost that blessed mo* 
ment's impression in favour of trutli and honour. 

After much swallowing, Johnson, however, at last, 
got the better of his conscience, and came on with a 
stout denial of the fact. Whereupon Charnock, 
snatching a pair of pistols, ordered him to take one 
and fight him on the spot. 1 his being refused, the 
furious lieutenant instantly fell upon him with a cane. 
Sensible that Johnson had very richly deserved this 
ignominious chastisement, we gave him up to Char- 
nock, who thrashed him very soundly, until, falling 
on his knees, he roared out for quarter. Charncjck 
then ordered liim to be gone, hut with the severest 
threats in case the recruits were not forthcoming ai 
the appointed time. 

On the morrow they came, and " let the cat out of 
the bag." It appeared then, that that most worthless 
fellow, Johnson, had told the poor simple recruits 
such dreadful stories about the war, that in their 
fright they had offered him all their cows and calve" 
to get them off ! 

Our success in the recruiting business far exceed- 
ed cur expectations, for in a very short time v/e made 
up our full complement of sixty men each. I have 
often lamented it as a most serious misfortune that 
we did not enlist for the war. I am certain we could 
as easily have enlisted for the war as for six months. 
We should then have had a host of veterans, masters 
of their dreadful art, inured to hardsliips, scornful 
of danger, and completely able to })urge our country 
of her cruel invaders. 

Asa place of greater security from the enemy's 
vessels, Dorchester had been pitched on as a deposite 



GEN. i'RANCIS MARION. 31 

for ammanition imd military stores, and put under a 
guard of miiitia. But fearing that the tories might 
rise upon this slender force and take away our pow- 
der, an article, at that time, of incalculable value, the 
council of safety advised to add a company of regu- 
lars, under some brave and vigilant oilicer. Marion 
had die honour to be nominated to the command, 
and, on the 19th of November, 1775, marched to the 
post, where he continued, undisturbed by the tories, 
until Christmas, when he was ordered down to 
Charleston to put fort Johnson in a state of defence. 

About this time an alFair happened in Charleston, 
which lilled with horror all who witnessed it. Cap- 
tain Fuller, of the second regiment, a gentleman in 
other respects very amiable and exemplary, gave 
himself up to hard drinking, and to such an excess as 
brought on an inflammation in the brain. In this fran- 
tic state, v/ith wild rolling eyes, and a face shockingly 
Jloated and red, he v/ould behave for all the world 
as if he were leading his men into action. " Come 
on, my brave fellows," he would cry, " now be cool and 
steady — reserve your lire till I say the word — now 
give it to them, my heroes — hurra, they run, they 
run. I thank you, my lads, for your gallantry in 
your country's cause." 

All this time the sweat would roll in torrents 
down his cheeks. Then, quite exhausted, he v/ouid 
fall on his knees, and with clasped hands, and eyes 
lifted to heaven, would pronounce the Lord's Prayer 
and the creed in the most moving manner. For 
several days the soldiers gathered around him v/hile 
thus employed : and often with tears in their eyes; 
would observe the total ruin which intemperance had 
brought upon this once elegant young gentlem.an.- - 
His friends in the country, hearing of his deplora- 
ble condition, came and took him home, where death 
soon put an end to all his mdseries. 

In a short tim<^ after this, our regiment was de- 



S2 THE LIFE OF 

privej of another very genteel young oiEcer, lU* ' 
tenant Perrineau; who also fell an early sacrifice t* 
that most shameful and detestable practice of morn- 
ing slings and mid-day draughts of strong grog. 

After these two tragedies, the reader will not, I 
hope, be displeased with the following farce., which 
was acted in fort Johnson, while Marion was repair- 
ing it, in January, 1776. The principal actors in it^ 
v/ere captain Marion, and a young lieutenant, whose 
name, delicacy, yet a while, bids me suppress. This 
officer, though in his person as handsome as Absalom, 
or the blooming Adonis, was as destitute of soul as 
a monkey. He appeared to have no idea above that 
of dress and diversion: and provided he could but 
compass his own little pitiful ends, which were al- 
ways of the sensual sort, he cared not how shame- 
fully he prevaricated and lied , but would wink, and 
grin, and chuckle, as if he haa done some great 
thing. He had served under a score of captains, 
who had all spoken of him as a slippery, worth- 
less fellow, whom they knew not what to do with. 
But though most heartily despised, the fool had the 
vanity to think himself amazingly clever ; and ac- 
tually boasted to me one day, that he would soon let 
me see how far he v/as over my famous captain Ma- 
rion's speed. Presently he hears thai there is to bt, 
next v/eek, a great cock-fight at Dorchester. Instant- 
ly his childish spirits are all on a fever to see the 
cock-fight. ^^ Oh heavens i he would not miss the 
cock-fight for the v/orld !" But how to obtain leave of 
absence from the foi-t at this busy time, was the rub ; 
however, for such n^eans as he v/as capable of using, 
an invention like his could not long be at a loss. In 
short, he went to Marion, with a doleful face, and in 
piteous accents, stated that his father, an excellent 
old man as ever son was blessed with, was at his last 
gasp, and only wanted to see him before he died. 

The generous Marion, not suspecting that so 



GKN. FRANCIS MARION. 33 

poodly an outside could cover such falsehood, did 
not wait to hear the coming petition, but instantly 
granted his wish, unheard — '"'' To be sure, lieutenant, 
go, by all means, go and wait upon your father; but 
return as soon as possible, for you see how much we 
have to do." 

The lieutenant affected to be quite overcome with 
Marion's generosity, and swore he would be back in 
two days, or at farthest in three. As he stepped 
along by me, he thrust his tongue into his cheek, and 
looked prodigiously arch, as if he had achieved a 
grand exploit. 

As soon as he was gone, I told Marion I suspect 
cd it was ail a trick. And so it turned out; for in* 
stead of hurrying off, as he had pretended, to see hia 
dying father, he slipt over to Charleston, where, for 
fear of being seen by any of our officers, he skulked 
about in the lower lanes and alleys until it was time 
to go up to the cock-fi^ht at Dorchester. 

At length after a fortnight's absence, he came over 
to the fort, and entering the marquee, where Marion 
was sitting with his oiTicers, he began to bov/ and 
scrape. As if not perceiving him, Marion turned 
his head another way. The lieutenant then, exceed- 
ingly embarrassed, came out with his apology, — " I 
am sorry, sir, to have outstayed my time so long ; 
but — ^but I could not help it — but now I am returned 
to do my duty'." 

Marion turned very quickly upon him, and with 
a most mortifying neglect, said, ^' Aye, lieutenant, 
is that you ? well, never mind it — there is no harm 
done — I never missed you." 

The poor lieutenant was so completely cut up, that 
he could not say a word, but sneaked off, hanging 
down his head, and looked much more like a detect- 
ed swindler than a gentleman soldier. 

The officers, who were all prodigiously pleased 
with his confusion, presently went out and bf gan to 



54 THE LIFE OF 

rally him — " Ah, ha, lieutenant, ixvd so the. captain 
has given you a set down." 

"•'A set down," replied Ijc very •anp;nly, ^'a ses 
down, do you call it ! I had rather a tijou^and time!: 
he had knocked me down — -ixn uc;ly, cross, •knock 
kneed, hook-nosed son of a b%tf|i !" 

The ofiicers nlmost split their sides with laughinj^. 
The story soon took wind ; and the poor lieutenant 
did not iiear the last of it for many a day. I have 
often heard him say that nothinj^ ever so completely 
confounded him, as did that dry, cutting speech cf 
Marion. 

"I was never at a loss before," said he, "to ma 
nage all other oflicers that were ever set over me 
As for our colonel, (meaning Moultrie) he is a fine, 
honest, good-natured old buck. But I ca?n wind him 
round my fmger like a pack-thread. But as for the 
stern, keen-eyed Marion, I dread him." 

The truth is, Marion wished his officers to be gen- 
tlemen. And whenever he saw one of them acting 
below that character, he would generously attempt 
his reformation. And few men, perhaps, ever knew 
better how to manage truants from duty. 

To a coarse, conceited chap, like our lieutenant. 
Marion gave no quarter., but checked him at once, 
but still in a Vv^ay that v/as quite gentlemanly, and 
calculated to overawe. He kept him at arms' length — 
took no freedoms with him — nor allowed any — and 
when visited on business, he would receive and treat 
him with a formality sufficient to let him see that all 
was not right. 

The effect of such management evinced the cor- 
rectness of Marion's judgment. The young lieute- 
nant became remarkably polite, and also attentive tc 
duty. In short, no subaltern beha\ed better. And 
this veiy happy change in his mav\nera;» was soon 
succeeded by as pleasing a change in tht; sentiments 
of all around him. The ofHcers of the regiment grew 



GEN. FRANXIS MARION. 35 

fond of him— Marion spoke of him with pleasure, as 
an excellent soldier — and he of Marion, as his beat 
friend. 

This is sufficient to show the truth of the remark 
made by Aristotle — "that there is no art &o difficult 
and godlike a-s that of managing men to their own 
happir*es3 and glory." 



CHAPTER IV. 



'Die cUiiOH ^of danger darker and darker — two addU 
tioriul regiraenti rahed — Mari'jn prrjrnrjtf.d Vj a mo/- 
joriVj—Jort Moultrie built — A lirit'i'^h fieet and ar- 
mij iTi^ade Carc>ima — grand prtparathriH to receht 
iheTK — admirable patriothm of the CharkfAon iadien 
— herrui^ attack on fort Moultrie — gloriouH d'fcru:e 
of the ^arr'v.on. 

THE clo^id of war prowin;' still dzrktr and darker 
cvtry- day, the council of safety determined to raise 
a regiment of artillery, and another of infantry. In 
consequence of this, several of the officers of the 
former regiments were promoted. Among these was 
my friend Marix)n, v/ho from the rank of captain, was 
raised to a majorit)'. His field of duties became, of 
course, much more wide and difficult, but he seemed 
to come fon^ard to the discharge of them with the 
familiarity and alertness of one who. a« general 
?»Ioultrie used to say, v/as bom a soldier. In fact, he 
appeared never so happy, never so completely in his 
element- as wli^jn he had his officers and men out on 
parade at ex**- training. And for cleanliness of per- 
son, neatr-esa of dress, and gentlemanly manners. 
With celerity and exactness in performing tlieir evo- 
lutions, the^ soon became the admiration and praise 
both of citizens and soldiers. And indeed I ara not 



36 THE LIFE OF 

atraid to say that Marion was the architect of the 
second regiment, and laid the foundation of that ex- 
cellent discipline and conlldence in themselves, which 
gained them such reputation whenever they were 
brought to face their enemies. 

In JMarch, 1776, I was sent over with my com* 
pany, to Sullivan's island, to prevent the landing ol 
ihe British from the men of war, the Cherokee and 
Tamar, then lying in Rebellion road. I had not been 
long on that station, before col. Moultrie came over 
with his whole regiment to erect a fort on the islanrt. 

The truth is, the governor had of late become con- 
foundedly afraid of a visit from the British. The 
great wealth in Charleston must, he thought, by this 
time, have set dieir honest fuigers to itching — and 
,ne also suspected that they could hardly be ignorant 
what a number of poor deluded gentlemen, called 
tories, we had among us. 

The arrival of colonel Moultrie, with the second 
regiment, afforded me inunite satisfaction. It brouglu 
me once more to act in concert with Marion. 'I'is 
true, he had got one grade above me in the line of 
preferment ; but, thank God, I never minded that. ] 
loved Marion, and " love^"^ as every body knows, 
" envieth not.^^ We met like brothers. I read in hif 
looks the smiling evidence of his love towards me « 
and I felt the strongest wish to perpetuate his pai'- 
tiality. Friendship was gay within my heart, and 
thenceforth all nature xvithout put on her lovelies* 
aspects. The island of sand no longer seemed a 
dreary waste. Brighter rolled the blue waves of 
ocean beneath the golden beam ; and sweeter mur- 
mm-ed the billows on their sandy beach. My he-art 
rejoiced with the playful fishes, as they leajK'd high 
wantoning in the air, or, with sudden flounce, return- 
ed again, wild darting through their lucid element. 
Our work went on in joy. The palmetto trees were 
brought to us by the blacks, iu lar^a rufts^ of which 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 37 

we constructed, for our fort, an immense pen, two 
hundred feet long, and sixteen feet wide, filled with 
sand to stop the sljot. For our platforms, we had 
two-inch oak planks, nailed down with iron spikes. 
With glad hearts we then got up our carriagt^s and 
mounted our guns, of which twelve were 18 pound- 
ers — twelve 24' 8, and twelve French 36's, equal to 
English 42*s. 

A general joy was spread over the faces of our regi- 
ment, as we looked along our battery of t.liundererf;. 
But our glorying, under God, was chiefly in our 
two and forty pounder.':. And indeed their appear- 
ance was t-^irrible, where they lay with wide Cerl^e- 
rean mouths, hideously gaping over the roaring 
waves, and threatening destruction to the foes of 
liberty. 

They were soon called to a trial of their metal. — 
For on the 31st of May, v/hile we were all busily 
driving on;^ith our fort, suddenly a cry was heard, 
" a Jlcct I f^Jicet,, ho .'" Looking out to sea, we all at 
once beheld, as it were, a wilderness of ships, hang- 
ing, like snow-white clouds from the north-east sky. 
It was the sirs Parker and Clinton, hastening on with 
nine ships of war and thirty transports, bearing three 
thousand land forces, to attack Charleston. 

Such an armament was an awful novelty, that pro- 
duced on us all a momentary flutter ; but, thank God, 
no serious fear. On the contrary, it was very visi- 
ble in every glowing cheek and sparkling eye, as we 
looked, laugliini^.^ on one another, that we considered 
the approaching conflict as a grand trial of courage, 
which we rather desired tlian dreaded. And to their 
equal praise, our gallant counti'}'men in Cliarlestoni 
as we learned daily, by the boats, were all in fine 
spirits, and constantly making their best preparations 
to receive the enemy. And still my pen trembles in 
my hand ; even after this long lapse of tinae, it trem- 
bles with v/onder and delight, to tell of that immor- 



m THB LIFR OF 

tal fire, which in those perilous days, glowed in the 
bosoms of the Charle?*on fair. Instead of gloomy 
sadness and tears, for v le dark cloud that threatened 
their city, they wore the most enlivening looks — > 
constantly talked the boldest language of patriotism 
—animated their husbands, brothers, and lovers to 
fight bravely-— and, for themselves, they vowed they 
would ^*' never live the slaves of Britain.'*'^ Some peo* 
pie in our days, may not believe me, when I add of 
these nc^^ile ladies, that they actually begged leave of 
their commandant, to let them ^''fght by the sides of 
their relatives and friends.'*'' This, though a glorious 
request, was absolutely refused them. For who 
could bear to see the sv/eet face of beauty rough- 
ened over with the hard frowns of war ; or, the war- 
riors musket, on those tender bosoms, formed of 
heaven only to pillow up the cheeks of happy hus- 
bands, and of smiling babes ? 

But though the spirits of the ladies were willing, 
their nerves were weak; for v/hen the British ships 
of war hove in sight, opposite to the town, they all 
went down to the shore to view them. And then 
strong fear, like the cold wind of autumn, struck their 
tender frames with trembling, and bleached their 
rosy cheeks. Some, irdeed, of the younger sort, af- 
fected to laugh and boast; but the generality re- 
turned silent and pensive, as frer-i a funeral, hauging 
their lovely heads, like rows of sickly jonquils, when 
the sun has forsaken the gardens, and faded nature 
mourns his departed beams. Sisters were often seen 
to turn pale and sigh, when they looked on their 
youthful brothers, while tender mothers, looking 
down on their infant cherubs at the breast, let drop 
their pearly sorrows, and exclaimed, "" happy the 
wombs that bear 7iot, ana t/ie pops tliat give no suck?'' 

In consequence of a most extraordinary continuation 
of calms, baffling winds, and neap tides, the enemy's 
ships never got >vithin our bar till the 27th of June 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 39 

>nd on the following morn, the memorable 28th, they 
weighed anchor on the young flood, and hefore a fine, 
oreeze, with top gallant sails, royals, and sky scraper*, 
all drawing, came bearing up for the fort like floating 
mountains. 

The anxious reader must not suppose that we were 
standing all this while, with fmger in mouth, idly 
gaping like children on a raree show. No, by the 
Living ! but, fast as they neared us, we still kept our 
thunders close bearing upon them, like infernal point- 
ers at a dead set ; and as soon as they were come 
within point blank shot, we clapped our matches and 
gave them a tornado of round and double-headed 
bullets, which made many a poor Englishman's head 
ache. Nor were they long in our debt, but letting 
go their anchors and clewing up their sails, which 
they did in a trice, they opened all their batteries, and 
broke loose upon us with a roar as if heaven and 
earth had been coming together. 

Such a sudden burst of flame and thunder, could 
not but make us feel very queer at first, especially as 
we were young hands, and had never been engaged 
in such an awful scene before. But a few rounds 
presently brought us all to.riglits again, and then, 
with heads bound up, and stripped to the buff, we 
plied our bull-dogs like heroes. 

The British outnumbered us in men and guns, at 
least three to one, but then our guns, some of them 
at least, were much the heaviest, carrying balls ot 
two and forty pounds weight ! and when the mon- 
sters, crammed to the throat with chained shot and 
infernal fire, let out, it was with such hideous peals 
as made both earth and ocean tremble. At one time 
it appeared as though, by a strange kind of accident, 
all their broad-sides had struck us at once, which 
made the fort tremble again. But our palniettoes 
stood the tire to a miracle, closed up without sign ^ 
sjilinter, on their shot, which was stopped by the 
0-2 



40 THE LIFE OF 

tcrmcdiate sand ; while, on the other hand, every 
bullet that we fired, went through and through theii 
ships, smashing alike sailors, timber-heads, and iron 
anchors, in their furious course. And thus was the 
order of our battle — there, a line of seven tall ships ; 
and here, one little, solitary fort — there, British dis- 
cipline ; and here, American enthusiasm— there, 
brave men fighting for a tyrant ; and here, heroes 
contending for liberty. I am old now, and have for- 
gotten many things, but never shall I forget the 
heart-burnings of that day, when I heard the blast of 
those rude cannon, that bade me be a slave ; and still 
my aged bosom swells with the big joy when I hear, 
which I often do in fancy's ear, the answer of our 
faithful bull-dogs, as with deafening roar, lurid fiame 
and smoke, they hurled back their iron curses on the 
wicked claim. But alas ! for lack of ammunition, our 
opening victory was soon nipped like a luckles° 
flov/er, in the bud : for the contest had hardly lasted 
an hour, before our powder was so expended that we 
were obliged, in a great measure, to silence our guns, 
which was matter of infinite mortification to us, both 
i because of the grief it gave our friends, and the high 
^ triumph it afforded our enemies. ^'- Foxvder! Poivderl 
millions for poxuderP'' was our constant cry. Oh ' 
had we but had plenty of that iioisy kill-seed^ as the 
Scotchmen call it, not one of those tall ships would 
ever have revisited Neptune's green dominion. They 
must inevitably have struck, or laid the.Vr vast hulks 
ulong-side the fort, as hurdles for the snail-loving 
sheep'^s heads. Indeed, small as our stock of ammu- 
nition was, we made several of their ships look like 
selves, and smell like slaughter pens. 'TWt commo" 
dore's ship, the Bristol, had fifty men killed^ and up- 
wards of one hundred wounded ! 

The lac^-els of the second rep;iment can never fade 
—-the destructive effect of their fire gave glorious 
proof, that they loaded and levelled their picc«^s iisg 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 4t 

men who wished every shot to tell. They all fought 
like veterans ; but the behaviour of some was gal- 
lant beyond compare ; and the humble names of Jas- 
per and McDonald shall be remembered, when those 
of proud kings shall be forgotten. 

A bail from the enemy's ships carried away our 
flag-staff. Scarcely had the stars of liberty touched 
the sand, before Jasper ilew and snatched them up 
and kissed them with great enthusiasm. Then 
having fixed them to the point of his spontoon, he 
leaped up on the breast-work amidst the storm and 
fury of tlie battle, and restored them to tiieir daring 
station — waving his hat at the same time and huzza- 
ing, '"''God save Iwnrtif and mij coiintru for ever P'' 

As to sergeant M'Donaid, wliite fighting like a 
hero, at his f|:un, a cannon ball came in at the port- 
hole, and mangled him miserably. As he was borne 
off, he lifted his dying eyes, and said to his comrades, 
" Huzza^ my brave fellows^ I d'le^ but don^t let the cause 
of liberty/ die xvit/i nie^ 

The effect of our last gun, and which happened to 
be fired by Tvlarion, is too remarkable to be lost. It 
was his lot that day to command the left wing of the 
fort, where many of our heaviest cannon were plant- 
ed. As from lack of pov/der, we were obliged to 
fire very slow, Marion would often level the guns 
himself. And now comes my story. — Just after sun- 
set the enemy's ships ceased firing, and slipping their 
cables, began to move off. Pleased with the event, 
an officer on the quarter deck of the Bristol man of 
war, called out to his comrade, " WelL d — n mij ei/es, 
Franks the play is ever J hg lefst^o belovo and hob nob 
to a glcrss of xvine^ for I am devilish drij /" 

" IVnh all my hearty JackT replied the other; so 
down they whipped into the cabin, v/here the v.'inc 
and glasses had been standing all day on the table. 
At thi^ momtjnt, one of our two and forty pounders 
being jur4 loaded, Marion called to colonel Moultrie, 



42 THE LIFE OF 

and asked him if it would not be well enough to give 
them the last blow. " Tes^"* replied Moultrie, " give 
them the parting kick,'^'* 

Marion clapped the match, and away, in thunder 
2nd lightning went the ball, which, entering the cabin 
windows, shattered the two young friends : thence 
jraging through the bulk-heads and steerage, it shiver- 
ed three sailors on the main deck, and, after all, 
bursting through the forecastle into the sea, sunk 
with sullen joy to the bottom. 

We got this story from five British seamen, who 
ran off with the Bristol's long boat, and came and 
joined us that very night. 

The next day, that noble whig, Mr. William Logan^ 
sent us a couple of fat beeves and a hogshead of rum, 
'' to refresh us^^ as he was pleased to say, " after our 
hard daifs ■work?'* And on the second day after the 
action, the governor and council, with numbers of the 
great ladies and gentlemen of Charleston, came over 
to the fort to visit us. We all puc on our " best bibs 
and tuckers^"* and paraded at the water's edge to re- 
ceive them, which we did with a spanking feu dejoi^ 
and were not a little gratified with their attentions 
and handsome compliments paid us, for what they 
yolitely termed " our gallant defence of our countrij?'* 
And indeed to see the looks of our poor soldiers, 
when those great ladies, all glittering in silks and 
jewels, and powdered and perfumed so nice, would 
come up to them, in faces like angels, sparkling and 
smiling so sweet, as if they would kiss them ; I say, 
to see the looks of our poor fellows, their arvkivard 
hoxvs and broad grins ^ and other droll capers they cut, 
no human being could have refrained from laughing 

Presently that excellent lady, Mrs. Colonel Elliot 
(of the artillery,) came forward and presented us with 
a most superb pair of colours, embroidered with gold 
and silver by her own lilv-white hands. 

rhey were delivered, if I mistake not, to the brave 



^ 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION 43 

sergeant Jasper, who smiled when he took them, and 
vowed he '"'"would never give them up but with his 

'if"" 

Poor fellov/! he too soon made good his promise, 
near the fatal walls of Savannah. 

But it was not the ladies alone that were attentive 
to us, for that great man, governor Rutledge, in pre- 
Bence of the regiment, took the sword from his side, 
and with his own noble hand presented it to sergeant 
Jasper. He also offered him a commission on the 
spot ; but this, Jasper absolutely refused. " I am 
greatly obliged to you, governor," said he, " but I 
had rather not have a commission. As I am, I pass 
very well with such company as a poor sergeant has 
any right to keep. If I were to get a commission, I 
should be forced to keep higher company: and then, 
as I don't kno*/ how to read, I should only be throw- 
ing myself in a way to be laughed at !" Parents, 
v/ho can waste on grog and tobacco, that precious 
'noney you ought to educate vour children with, 
thitik'of this! 



04 THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER V. 

Governor Rutledge harangues the troops — shows Br\ 
tahi's injustice to have been the cause of the Amen 
can xuar — independence declared — gi'^^cit joy on that 
accou7it. 

ON the 20th of September, 1776, all the troops ii. 
Charleston were ordered to rendezvous without the 
gates of the city, to hear, as we were told, " Some 
great news." Soon as we were paraded, governor 
Rutledge ascended a stage, and in the forcible man- 
ner of a Demosthenes, informed, that Congress had 
dissolved all relation with England, by an open De- 
claration of Independence. 

" You are, no doubt, gentlemen," said he, " sur- 
prised, and perhaps shocked at this intelligence. But 
however painful this measure may be to our feelings, 
it is absolutely necessary to our safet}''. 

" Under the sacred name of ' mother country,' 
England has long been working our ruin. I need not 
tell you that our fathers were Britons, who for liber- 
ty's sake, came and settled in this country, then a 
howling wilderness. For a long time they ate their 
bread, not only embittered with sweat, but often stain- 
ed with blood — their own and the blood of their chil- 
dren, fighting the savages for a dwelling place. At 
length they prevailed and found a rest. But still their 
Jiearts were towards the place of their nativity ; and 
often with tears, did they think and talk of the white- 
clifted island where their fathers dwelt. Dying, they 
bequeathed to us the same tender sentiments, which 
we cherished with a pious care. The name of Eng- 
land was a pleasant sound in our ears — the sight of 
their ships was always wont to fill our hearts v/ith joy 
We hasted to greet the beloved strangers ; and hur - 
T)' ing them to our habitations, spread for them our 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 45 

>past, and rejoiced as men do in the society of their 
dearest friends. 

" Oh ! had our mother country but treated us "with 
equal affection — as a tender parent, had she but 
smiled on our valour — encouraged our industry — 
and thus exalted the horn of our gloiy, our union 
and brotherly love would have h'een eternal ; and th\ 
impious name of mdependence had never been heard ! 
But, alas ! instead of treating us in this endearing 
spirit, she cruelly limited our commerce — compelled 
us to buy and sell to her alone, and at her own 
prices — and not content with the enormous profits of 
such a shameful traffic, she has come, at length, to 
claim a right to tax us at pleasztrc. 

" But, my countrymen, will ywu suffer thus rudely 
to be wrested from you, that goodly inheritance of 
LIBERTY, which was bequeathed to you by your gal- 
lant fathers ? Will you thus tamely suffer to be frus- 
trated all the glorious designs of God towards you 
and your children ? For look but around on this g-rea^ 
land^ which he has given you, and yon bright heavens, 
which he has spread over your favoured heads, and 
say v/hether he ever intended those mighty scenes to 
be the prison-house of slaves ? — the trembling slaves 
of a small island beyond the sea? — hewers of wood 
and drawers of water, planters of rice and pickers oi 
cotton, for a foreign tyrant and his minions i No, my 
friends, God never intended you for such dishonour — 
and can you be so wicked as to bring it on your- 
selves ? I trust you will not. - Nay, the voices of 
your brave countrymen in Congress, have said you 
willnot^^Tid anticipating your heroic sentiments, have 
already declared you a " iiiee and independent 

PEOPLE !" 

" And now my gallant friends, are you v/illing f 
confirm their glorious deed ? Are you willing thii 
day, in the sight of heaven, to swear allegiance to the 
sovereignty of your country, and to place her in the 



46 THE LIFE OF 

highest vaiik of nations, by proclaiming her juip* 

PENDENT ?" 

In a moment the air resounded with " Tes ! 
independence I independence for ever ! God save th« 
independent states of America /'" 

The oath of allegiance was then tendered to the 
troops. The officers with great alacrity took it frst: 
which highly pleased the common soldiers, who rea- 
dily followed their patriotic example. Soon as the 
solemn rite was performed, the governor ordered a 
feu dejoie. Instantly at the welcome word, " handle 
arms,^^ the eager warriors struck their fire-locks, 
loud ringing through all their ranks ; and presenting 
their pieces, rent the air with fierce platoons ; while 
the deep throated cannon like surly bull-dcgs, rolled 
their louder thunders along the field j then madly 
bounding back on their rattling wheels, they told to 
fancy^s ear^ " Freedo?n''s sons are zue, and t^n the 
oiilains that wr^ld make us slaves /" 




GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 47 



CHAPTER VI. 

rimes qr owing- sqiiallij — the author sets out a vagrant 
hunting — gets into hot xvater — narroxvhj escapes 
7V7th Ills life — catches a host of vagabonds^ but 
learns from experience^ that^ though a rascal may do 
to stop a bullet^ ^tis only the man of honour that can 
make a good soldier. 

" THE devii;' said (George Whitefielcl, " h fond 
of f shin g in muddy -waters'''' — hence it is, I suppose, 
that that grand demagogue has always been so fond 
of ivar — that sunshine and basking time of rogues, 
which calls them out, thick as May-day sun calls out 
the rattle-snakes from their stony crannies. 

In times of peace^ the waters are clear, so that if 
the smallest Jack (villain) hut makes his appearance, 
eagle-eyed ^w.s?ic6^, with her iron talons, is clown upon 
him in a moment. But let ivar but stir up the mud 
of confusion, and straightway the eyes of justice are 
blinded — thieves turn out in shoals : and devils, like 
hungry fishing-hawks, are seen by the eye of faith y 
hovering over the wretched fry, screaming for their 
prey. 

This v/as exactly the case in South Carolina. The 
war had hardly raged there above a twelvemonth and 
a day, before the state of society seemed turned up- 
side down. The sacred plough was every where 
seen rusting in the weedy furrows — Grog shops and 
Nanny houses were springing up as thick as hops— 
at the house of God you saw nobody — but if there 
was a devil's hous'i (a dram shop) hard by, you 
might be sure to see that crowded v/ith poor Laza- 
rites, with red noses and black eyes, and the fences 
all strung along with starved tackles, in grape-viae 
bridles and sheep-skin saddles. In short, the whole 
country was fast overrunning^ with vagabonds, like 
E 



48 THE LIFE OF 

ravening locusts, seeking where they might lignt, 
and whom they should devour. 

" Good heavens !'* said Marion to me one day, and 
with great alarm in his looks, "what's to be done 
with these wretches, these vagrants ? I am actually 
afraid we shall be ruined by them presently. Foi 
you know, sir, that a vagrant is but the chrysalis of 
fly state of the gambler, the horse-thief, the money- 
coiner, and indeed of every other worthless creature 
that disturbs and endangers society." 

'' Why colonel," replied I, " there's a conceit in 
my head, Avhich, if it could but be brought to bear, 
would, I think, soon settle the hash with these ras- 
cals." 

'* Aye," replied he, " well, pray give it to us, for I 
should be very fond to hear it." 

" Why sir," said I, " give me but a lieutena-nt, ser- 
geant, and corpora], with a dozen privates, all of my 
own choosing, do you see, and if I don't soon give 
vou a good account of those villains, you may, with j 
all my heart, give me a good suit of tar and fea- 
thers." 

My demand was instantly complied with. Then t 
taking with me such men as I knew I could depend 
on, among whom was the brave lieutenant Jossilin, I 
set out from the Long Bluff, towards Sandhills. The 
reader will please to take notice, that in our hurry we 
had not forgot to take with us a constable with a pro- 
per warrant. 

We had gone but a few miles, before we fell in 
with a squad of as choice game as heart oould have 
wished, three proper tall yoimg^ vainibonds I profound- 
ly engaged at all fours ^ in a log tippling shop, with 
cards as black as their own dirty hands, and a tickler 
of brandy before them! and so intent were the 
thieves on fleecing each other, that they took no 
manner of notic? of us, but continued their scoun- 
drel work, eagerly stretched over the table, thwack- 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION 49 

ing down their cards with filthy knuckles, and at 
every stroke bawling out, " there's a g'oocl trick i^"* 

" That^<i as ^ood as heP 

'* And there's the best of the three — huzza, d — if 
tie ! at him again my hearties." 

^^ Lieutenant Joss'd'm^^ said I, ''^ f^rah thcv.i fdloxus^ 

You never saw poor devils in such a fright. But 
soon as they had recovered the use of their tongues. 
they swore like troopers that they were the " moi^i 
honestest gentlemen in all Carolina^ 

*' Aye ! well, I am very glad to hear that, gentle- 
men, said I, for I love honest men prodigiously, and 
hope the magistrate will confirm the handsome re- 
port you have made of yourselves." 

So off we set all together for the magistrate. About 
dinner time I ordered a halt at the house of one 
Johnson, a militia captain, who appeared quite over- 
whelmed with joy to see me. 

"■ Heaven bless us !" said he, " and now who could 
have believed all this ? And have I, at last, to my 
heart's desire, the great honour of seeing under my 
humble roof the noble major Borj-y .^" 

I told him I was much obliged to him, for his po- 
liteness — but, for the present, was rather too hungry 
to relish compliments. " Like sweetmeats, captain," 
said I, " a little of them may do pretty well after u 
good dinner." 

" Oh, my dear maior !" quoth he, " and how sorry 
I am now ihar I have nothing fit for dinner for you, 
my noble son oi thunder — a saddle oi fat vejiison^ 
major ; or a brace of young ducks ; or, a green goose 
with currant jelly, and a bottle of old Madeira to 
wash it down, do you see, major ! something nicef for 
rou, do you see, major !" 

" Nice^'^ said I, " captain Johnson ; We soldiers 
of liberty don't stand, upon the riice — the substantial 
*> all that we care i'or — -a rasher of fat bacon from the 



50 THE LIFE OF 

coals, with a good stout lump of an ash cake, is nice 
enough for us." 

" Oh, my dear sir !" replied he, " now doti^t^ dofi't 
be angry with me ; for I was only sorry that I have 
nothing half so good for you as I could wish, but 
such as it i§, thank God, we have plenty; and you 
shall have a /)ite in a trice." So oiT he v/ent, as he 
pretended, to hurry dinner. 

Now can any honest man believe that this same 
man, captain Johnson, who had been, as Paddy says^ 
*' sticihiif the blarney into me at that rate^"* could have 
been such a scoundrel as to turn about the very next 
minute, and try all in his power to trick me out ot 
my vagrants. It is, however, too true to be doubt- 
ed ; for having purposely delayed dinner till it was 
late, he then insisted that I must not deny him the 
^'' very great honour cf my company that night.'*'' Soon 
as my consent was obtained, he despatched a parcel 
of riders, to order in, with their guns, as many of his 
ganp^ as he thought would do. In the course of the 
night, snug as master Johnson thought himself, I got 
a hint of his capers, and told my men to see that 
their guns were in prime order. 

While breakfast was getting ready, (for Johnson 
swore I should not leave him ^^ on an einpty stomach'*'*^ 
lieutenant Jossilin came and told me he did not un- 
derstand the meaning of so many ill-looking fellows 
coming about the house with their guns in their 
hands. 

I replied that we should see presently. 

Breakfast then making its appearance, we satdo'\\Ti, 
and while we were eating, (our men all on parade at 
the door) Johnson's men kept dropping in one after 
another, till there were, I dare say, as many as thirty 
of them in the room, all armed. 

When breakfast was over, I turned to the consta- 
ble, and desired him to look to his charge, meaning 
th^ three vagrants , for that we would start as soon a* 



GEN. FRANCIS IVIAIUON. 51 

our men were all refreshed. Upon this captain John- 
son said he believed he should not let the pri'ioners go. 

" Not let them go, sir," said I, " what do you mean 
by that, sir ?" 

" I mean, sir," replied he, " that the law is an op- 
pressive one." 

I asked him, still keeping myself perfectly cool, if 
he was not an American soldier ? 

"2"t'5, A77," he answered, "/ am an American sol- 
dier ; and as good a one, perhaps, as yourself, or any 
other man." 

" Well, sir, and is this the way you show your sol- 
diership, by insvlting the law ?" 

" I am not bound," continued he, " to obey a bad 
law." 

" But, sir, who gave ijou a right to judge the law ?" 

" I don't mind that," quoth he, '' but d—n me. sir. 
*f ril let the prisoners go." 

" Very well, captain Johnson," said I, " we shall 
soon tri/ that; and if you and your people here, 
choose to go to the devil for resisting the lav/, on 
your own heads be the blood!j const quenccsy 

With this I gave the floor a thundeiing stamp, and 
in a moment, as by magic, in bursted my l^rave ser- 
geant and men, with fixed bayonets, ready for slaugh- 
ter, while Jossilin and myself, 'whipping out our 
swords, rushed on as to the charge. 

A troop of red foxes dashing into a poultry yard, 
never produced such squalling and (lying as now took 
place amoi-ig these poor guilty wretches — ''■ Lord have 
mercij upon iis^'* they cried — down fell their guns — 
smack Avent the doom and tvindoxvs — and out ot both, 
heels over head they tumbled, as expecting every mo- 
ment tlie points of oui* bayonets.. The house was 
quickly cleared of every soul except Johnson and bis 
lieutenant, one Lunda, who both trembled like aspen 
leaves, expecting a severe drubbini^. 

" Captain Johnson," said I '"don't tremble; yoj 
E3 



S% THE LIFE OP 

have nothing to fear from me. A man who can act 
as you have* done, is not an object of anger, but cou' 
tempt. Go! and learn the spirit that becomes a gen- 
tleman and an American soldier." 

I should have observed, that as we advanced to 
charge Johnson's poltroons, one of the party, a reso- 
lute fellow, presented his gun to my breast and drew 
the trigger. Happily, in the very instant of its firing, 
lieutenant Jossilin knocked it up with his sword; and 
the ball grazing my shoulder, bursted through the 
side of the house. 

As we rode off, some of Johnson's fugitives had the 
audacit}'' to bawl out, though from a very prudent dis- 
tance, threatening us that they would yet rescue the 
prisoners before we got to the bluif. But they wisely 
took care not to make good their word, for they were 
only a pack of poor ignorant tories, who did nothing 
on principle, and were therefore ready to quit their 
purpose the moment they saw danger in the way. 

Our success at vagrant hunting was marvellous. I 
hardly think we could, in the same time, have caught 
as many raccoons in any swamp on Pedee. On count- 
ing noses, we found, that in our three weeks' course, 
we had seized and sent oif to Charleston, upwards 
of fifty. With the last haul, I returned myself to the 
city, where I received the thanks of general Howe, 
for " the handsorne addition,''^ as he was pleased to 
term it, *"' which J had made to the regiment^ 

But on trial, it was found that such vermin were 
not worthy of thanks, nor were any addition to the 
regiment, except as disgust to the men and vexation 
to the officers. Destitute of honour, they perforxred 
their duty, not like soldiers, but slaves ; and^ on ev^ry 
opportunity, would run off into the woods like rild 
beasts. 



GEN. FRANCIS ; MARION. 53 

CHAPTER VII. 

The brave sergeant Jasper again on the carpet — in dis- 
guise visits a British post at Ebemzer — in company 
of sergeant Newton^ makes a iccond trip thither — 
affecting view of an American lady and her child^ 
■with other whig prisoners at Ebenezer — desperate 
resolve of Jasper and Newton^ io rescue them — their 
bloody conjlict and glorious triumph, 

IN the spring of 1779, Marion and myself were 
sent with our comnaands, to Piirysburgh, to re-en- 
force general Lincoln, who was there on his way to 
attack the British in Savannah, which a few months 
before had fallen into their hards. As the count 
D'Estang, who was expected to co-operate in this af- 
fair, had not yet arrived, general Lincoln thought it 
advisable to entrench and wait for him. 

While v/e were lying at Purysburgh, a couple of 
young men of our regiment achieved an act of gene- 
rosity and courage, which, in former days, would 
have laid the ground-work of a heroic romance. One 
of the actors in this extraordinary play was the brave 
sergeant Jasper, whose name will for ever be dear to 
the friends of American liberty. 

Jasper had a brother who had joined the British, 
and held the rank of sergeant in their garrison at 
Ebenezer. Never man was truer to his country than 
Jasper, yet was his heart so warm that he loved hiy 
brother, though a tory, and actually went over to see 
him. His brother was exceedingly alarmed at sight 
of him, lest he should be seized and hung up at once 
as a spy, for his name was well known to many of the 
British officers. But Jasper begged him not to give 
himself much trouble on that head, for, said he, '"' 1 am 
no longer an American soldier." 

'' Well, thank God for that, William," replied his 
brother, giving him a hearty shake by the hand — 



I^E LIFE OF 



the uuord^ viy hoij^ and here is (t 
commission Wvith regimentals and gold to boot^ 

to fight for his mnj\styP 

Jasper shook his head and observed, that though 
there was but littU encouragement to fight ybr his 
country, yet he could not find in his heart to fight 
%gainst hex. And there the conversation ended. 

After staying with his brother some two or three 
days, inspecting and hearing all that he could, he took 
his leave, and hij a round about^ returned to camp, and 
told general Lincoln all that he had seen. 

Having wasted several weeks longer of tiresome 
idleness, and no news of the French fleet, Jasper took 
it into his head to make another trip to Ebenezer. 

On this occasion he did not, as before, go alone, 
but took with him his particular friend, sergeant 
Newton, son of an old Baptist preacher, and a young 
fellow, for strength and courage, just about a good 
match for Jasper himself. 

He was '"'ceived as usual, with great cordiality by 
his broth'^; tO whom he introduced his friend New- 
ton, and 5|, ^'nt several days in the British fort, with- 
out giving the least alarm. On the morning of the 
third day his brother had some had neivs to tell him. 

" Aye I what is it T' he asked, '' zvhat is it 'P' 

" Why," replied his brother," here are some ten or 
a dozen American prisoners, brought in this morning, 
as deserters from Savannah, wiiitber they are to be 
sent immediately. And from what I can learn, it 
will b(» apt to go hard with them, for it seems they 
have all taken the king's bounty." 

" Lefs see V;«," said Jasper, " lefs see Vw." 

So his brother took him and Newton to see thcnri. 
And indeed it was a mournful siglit to behold them, 
where ihey sat, poor fellows ! all hund-cuiTed, on tlic 
ground. But all pity of them was forgot, soon ns 
the eye was turned to a far more dolefid sight hard 
by, which was a young woman, wile of one of the 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. S3 

prisoners, with her child, a sweet little boy of about 
five years old. The name of this lady was Jones, 
Her humble garb showed her to be poor, but her deep 
distress, and sympathy with her unfortunate hus- 
band, showed that she was rich in that pure conjugal 
love, that is more precious than all gold. 

She generally sat on the ground opposite to her 
husband, with her little boy leaning on her lap, and 
her coal black hair spreading in long neglected tresses 
on her neck and bosom. And thus in silence she sat. 
a statue of grief, sometimes with her eyes hard fixed 
upon the earth, like one lost in thought, sighing am 
groaning the while as if her heart would burst — then 
starting, as from a reverie, she would dart her eager 
eyes, red with weeping, on her husband's face, and 
there would gaze, with looks so piercing sad, a^ 
though she saw him struggling in the halter, herself 
a widow, and her son an orphan. Straight her frame 
would begin to shake with the rising agony, and her 
face to change and swell ; then with eyes swimming 
in tears, she would look around upon us all, for pity 
and for help, with cries sufficient to melt the heart 
of a demon. While the child seeing his father's hands 
fast bound, and his mother weeping, added to the 
distressing scene, by his artless cries and tears. 

The brave are alwavs tender-hearted. It was so 
with Jasper and Newton, two of the most undaunted 
spirits that ever lived. They walked out in the neigh- 
bouring wood. The tear was in the eye of both. 
Jasper first broke silence. " Newton," said he, " my 
days have been but few ; but I believe their course is 
nearly done." 

" Why so, Jasper ?" 

" W^hy, I feel," said he, " that I must rescue these 
poor prisoners, or die with them; otherwise that wo- 
man and her child v/ill haunt me to my grave." 

" Well, that is exactly what I feel too," replied 
Newton — '•* and here is my hand and heart to stand 



56 THE LIFE OF 

by you, my brave friend, to the last drop. Thank 
God, a man can die but once, and there is not 
much in this life that a man need be afraid to lea^i 
it, especially when he is in the way of his duty." 

The two friends then embraced with great cor- 
diality, while each read in the other's countenance, 
that immortal fire which beams from the eyes of the 
brave, when resolved to die or conquer in some glo- 
rious cause. 

Immediately after breakfast, the prisoners were 
sent on for Savannah, under a guo-'d of a sergeant and 
corporal with eight men. They nad not been gone 
long, before Jasper, accompaniec. by his friend New- 
ton, took leave of his l^rother, and set out on some 
errand to the upper country. They had scarcely, 
' however, got out of sight of Ebenezer, before they 
struck into the piny woods, and pushed hard after 
the prisoners and their guard, whom they closely 
dogged for several miles, anxiously watching an op- 
portunity to make a blow. But alas I all hopes of 
that sort seemed utterly extravagant; for what could 
give two men a ciiance to contend against ten, espe 
tially when there Avas found no weapon in the hands 
^rf* of the two, while the ten, each man was armed with 
IP* his loaded musket and bayonet. But unable to give 
I up their countrymen, our heroes still followed on. 
About two miles from Savannah there is a famous 
sprmg, generally called the Spci^ well known to tra- 
vellers, who often tuin in hither to quench iheir thirst. 
* Perhaps," said Jasper, " tlie guard may stop there.'* 
Then hastening on by a near cut through the woods, 
they gained the Spa, as their last hcpf\ and there con- 
cealed themselves among the bushes that grew abun- 
dantly around the spring. 

Presently the mournful procession came in sight, 
headed by the sergeant, who, on coming oppo.site to 
the spring, ordered a halt. Hope sprung afresh in our 
bcFoes' bo'ooms, strong throbbing too, no doubt, -vvitP 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 57 

Ip'eHt alarms, for " it was a fearful odds^ The cor- 
poral with his guard of four men, conducted the pri* 
soners to the spring, while the sergeant with the 
other four, having grounded their arms near the road, 
brought up the rear. The prisoners, wearied with 
their long walk, were permitted to rest themselves ou 
the earth. Poor Mrs. Jones, as usual, took her seat 
opposite to her husband, and her little boy, overcome 
with fatigue, fell asleep in her lap. T\vo of the cor- 
poral's men were ordered to keep guard, and the other 
two to give the prisoners drink out of their canteens 
These last approached the spring where our heroes lay 
concealed, and resting their muskets against a pine 
tree, dipped up water: and having drank themselves^ 
turned away, with replenished canteens, to give the 
prisoners also. ^' Noiv / Ntnvton^ is our time l"*^ said 
Jasper. Then bursting, like two lions, from their 
concealment, they snatched up the two muskets that 
were rested against the pine, and in an instant shot 
down the two soldiers that kept guard. And now the 
question was, who should first get the two loaded 
muskets that had just fallen from the hands of the 
slain. For by this time the sergeant ai|d corporal, a 
couple of brave Englishmen, recovering from their 
momentary panic, had sprung and seized upon the 
muskets ; but before they could use them, the strong 
swift-banded Americans, with clubbed guns, levelled 
each at the head of his brave antagonist, ihe final l)low 
The tender bones of the skull gave way beneath th 
furious strokes, and with wide scattered blood and 
brains down they sunk, pale and quivering to the earth, 
without a groan. Then snatching up the guns which 
had thus, a second time, fallen from the hands of the 
slain, they flew between the surviving enemy, and or- 
dered them to surrender, which they instantly did. 

Having called the prisoners to them, they quickly 
with the point of their bayonets, broke off their hand- 
cuffs, and gave each of them a musket. 



i8 THE LIFE OF 

At the commencement of the fray, poor Mrs. Jones, 
naif frightened to death, had fallen to the ground in a 
swoon, with her little son piteously screaming over 
her. But when she came to herself, and saw her hus- 
band and friends around her, all freed from their fet- 
ters and well armed, she looked and behaved like one 
frantic with joy. She sprung to her husban-rs bosom 
and with her arms around his neck, subbed out, *'''0h 
bless God I bless God! mif husband is safe ; mj/ husbana 
is not hung yet r"* then snatching up her child, and 
straining him to her soul, as if she would have pressed 
him to death, she cried out — ^'* praise! praise! praise 
Gcdfor ever ! mi/ son has a fa iher yet /" Then wildlv 
dartmg round her eyes in quest of her deliverers, she 
exclaimed, ^^ Where ! where are those blessed angels 
, aat (^od sent to save my husband ?*' 

Directing her eyes to JaspiT and Newton, wh 
they stood like two )'outhful Sampsons, in the full 
fiowinc of their locks, she ran and fell on her knees 
before them, and seizing their hands, kissed and 
pressed them to her bosom, crying out vehemently, 
"Dear angels! dear antrels ! God bless you! Gcd 
Almighty bless you for ever !" 

Then instantly, for fear of being overtaken by the 
enemv. our heroes snatched the arms and re^^inientals 
vf the slain, and with their friends and captive foes, 
recrossed the Savannah, and in safety rejoined oui 
limv at Purysbureh. to the inexpressible astonish- 
mem and joy ol us all. 



(iKN. FllANCIS MARION 59 



CHAPTER Vlll 

Pic ccunt jyilfitanq-^ iviifi the Fniuch Jlect^ arrives to 
attack Scroannah — our armij marches and joins him 
—Jdta! effects of ly F.Stan if s politeness — biographi- 
cal (hisk of ijoung (o/o?iel Laurens — curious clialogut: 
betxvixt him a)id the Frejudi general — wisiiccessfuf 
attack on Savannah — the brave Jasper mortally 
xvGundcd- — is visited bij the author in his last mo- 
ments — interesting coJiversation — dies like a Chris- 
tian soldier. 

COULD the wishes of our army liave availed, 
those galhmt soldiers, (Jasper and Newton) would 
long have lived to enjov their past, and to win fresh 
laurels. But alas ! the former of them, the heroic 
Jasper, was soon led, like a ycunj^ lion, to an evil net. 
The mournful story of his death, with heavy heart 
I now relate. 

Scarcely had he returned from Georgia, laden, a\ 
aforesaid, with glory, when an express came intf 
camp, and infoi^med that the count D'Estang' wari 
arrived OiTTybcc. Instantly we struck our tents and 
marched for the siege of Savannah. On arriving nenr 
that fatal place, we found that the French troops, with 
their cannon and mortiu's, had just come up. Oh ! 
had we but advanced at once to theattac^<:, asbecaiue 
skilfnl soldiers, we should have carried every thing 
before us. The iVighted garrison would have hauled 
down their colours without fu'ing a shot. This I am 
warranted to sav bv the declaration of numbers of 
tlieir onicers, who afterwards fell into our hands. 
Hut in place of an imniediate coup de main^ the 
co!U-tly D'Estang sent a flag, very politely inviting 
the town to do him the extreme honour of receiving 
their surrender. 

The British commander was not much behind- 
E 



60 THE LIFE OF 

hand with the count in the article of pohteness^ fot 
he also returned a flag M'ith his compliments, and 
requested to be permitted four and tivt'iitij hcurs ta 
think cf the matter. 

If tiie asking such a favour was extraordinary, whal 
must the granting of it have been ? But the accom- 
plished D'Estang was fully equal to such douceurs 
tor he actuallv allowed the enemy four and twcnti^ 
hours to think cf surrendering ! 

But instead of thinking, like simpletons, they fell 
to entrenching^Wke brave soldiers. And being joined 
that very day by colonel JNIaitland from Beaufort, 
with a regiment of Highlanders, and assisted by 
swarms of negroes, decoyed from their masters un 
der promise of freedom, they pushed on their works 
with great rapidity. According to the report of our 
tioops who were encamped nearest to them, nothing 
was heard all that nigh'^, i)ut the huzzas of the sol- 
diers, the lashes of cow-hides, and the cries of nc 
groes. 

I never beheld INIarion in so great a passion. I was 
actuallv afraid he would have broke out on general 
Lincoln. **■ JIi/ God J^^ he exclaimed, "" ivho ez^er heard 
cf am/ thing like this before I — first allo-u an enemy 
to entrench, and then fght him I ! See the destruction 
brought upon the British at Bunker''s H'liU and yet our 
troops there were only militia! raiv, ha f -armed clod" 
hopper^ J and not a mortar, nor carronade, nor even a 
sruive! — but only their ducking guns I 

'" U'hat then are we to expect from regulars — -com- 
pletely armed with a choice train of artillery, and 
covered by a breast-work! For my own part, when 
I look upon mv brave fellows around me, it wruigs 
me to the heart, to think how near most of them are 
to their bloody graves." 

In fact, IMarion was so outrageous, as indeed were 
all of us, that we at length begged colonel Laurent 
to speak to the count D'Kstan;^. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 61 

A-nd here I must beg the reader^s pardon a mo- 
4i»«;nt, while I Inform him that this colonel Laurens 
(son of President Laurens) was a very extraordinary 
young- Carolinian 

On a trip to l^ondon,he fell in love with, and mar- 
ried a celebrated belle of that city. It would seem 
that he was very much taken with his English rela- 
tions, and they v/ith him, for after his marriage, they 
would not suffer him to revisit his parents, who 
doated on him, being their only son, but detained 
him with them in London, as gay as a young man 
well could l)e, in the gayest city in the world, moving 
every day in the highest circles of society, and e^very 
night encircled in the fond arms of a beauteous 
wife. 

But soon as the war against America broke out, 
his gaiety all forsook him. The idea of a ruffian sol- 
diery overrunning his native land, p^reyed incessantl)*" 
on his spirits, and threw him into those brown stu- 
dies which cost his lady full many a tear. Luiable 
to bear his disquietude, he fled at length from his 
wife and infant family, to fight for his ccuntr^^ He 
presented himself before the great Washington, who 
was so struck with the fire that beamed from his 
eyes, that he made him handsome offers of rank in 
the army. But his favourite service was to lead 
forlorn hcpes^ and the daring bands that are destined 
to carrv the enemv's works bv storm. V/ashintnon 

J J ^ o 

often gave him letters to this effect to his generals. 
And this was his object at Savannah, where a regi 
ment of choice infantry was immediately put imtler 
his command. But instead of being permitted his 
favourite pleasure of seeing his ardent warriors 
mounting the enemy's works, and rushing down 
streams of fire, followed by the bayonet, he was 
doomed to tret and pine in the humble office of 
interpreter between count D'E-stang and gener^' 
Lincoln. 



o2 TliK LIFE OF 

" But, Monsieur le couiit,^' said l.aurens to D'Ea 
tang, '^ the Aint'rican officers say they are afraid yoi< 
have given the English too long time to think." 

Ax this,*as Laurens told us aftei-wards, the counf 
put on a most comic starc^ and breaking into a hearty 
laugh, replied, " De Engleesh tink ! ha, ha, ha ! By 
pnr dat one vcr good parole ! De Engleesli tink, hel\ 
M^'.isicur le colonel ! By gar, de Engleesh never tink 
nut for dclr belUe. Give dc Jack Engleeshman plenty 
beef — plenty pudding — plenty porter, by gar he nevei 
tink any more, he lay down, he go a sleep like vun 
hog/' 

*' But, Monsieur le count," continued Laurens, 
^ the English are doing worse for us than thinking, 
rhey are working away like horses, and v/ill soon 
^et their defences too'higli for us to scale. ' 

" Eh, heh, Monsieur le colonel ! you tink-a so t 
Well den, bv j;*ar you no need for tink-a so — by gar 
my French-a-mans run over de fence just like vun 
tlef horse run over de cornfield tence — mind now I 
tell-a vou dat. Monsieur le colonel." 

" Well, but Monsieur le count, the British some- 
times fight like the d — 1." 

*' Sacre Dieu !" replied the nettled coimt, starting 
and gaping as though he M^ould have swallowed a 
young alligator — " de Briteesh fight like de diable I 
jaun foutre de Briteesh ! when they been known for 
fight like de diable? Ess, ess, dat true enough; dcy 
fight de Americans like de diable — but by gar dey 
no fight de French-a-mans so — no no, by gar dey no 
make one moutful for my French-a-mans — Morbleii .' 
mv French-a-mans eat dem up like vun leetle gre- 
nouille. * 

" Green Chvll^^ exclaimed one of general Lincoln's 
aids — '*• Oh my God ! who ever heard of a ^reen ozvl 
before ?" 

Here Laurens »«»Ung at the ofticrrs mistake, re 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 63 

filled," not jg-ircn owl^ sir, hut gyenoidlle i grenoullle, 
sir, is the French for frog." 

"Aye, sure enough, sure en ough,yr(9^5^," continued 
the count, *'^fro(^; grenoullle is frof^. By gar, Mon- 
sieur le colonel, you he vun (Idm good interpret^ I 
set (lat well enough. Well den, now, Monsieur le 
colonel, you hea;-a me speak — my French-a-mans 
eat dem Jack Engleesh all same like vun leetle frog." 

' Oh to he sure ! — no douht of all that. Monsieur 
Je count — hut, hefore we eat them up, they may kil! 
a great many of our soldiers."*' 

** Dey kill-a de soldier!" replied the passionate 
count — "well what den if dey do kill-a de soldier! 
Jaun foutre de soldier ! what dey good for but for be 
kill ? dat deir trade. You give-a vun poor dog sol- 
dier, two, three, four penny a day, he go fight — he 
get kill. Well den, what dat ? My gar he only get 
what he hire for." 

" But pardon me. Monsieur le count, we can't 
spare them." 

" Vat ! no spare de soldier ! de grand Monarque 
no spare de soldier ? O mon Dieii ! Vy, Monsieur le 
colonel — for why you talk-a so ? Well den, hear-a 
me speak now. Monsieur le colonel — you see de star 
ui de sky ; de leaf on dc tree ; de sand on de shore 
' — you no see all dat, heh ? Well den, by gar, Mon 
sieur le colonel, de grand Monarque got soldier more 
»in*a all dat — ess, sacra Dieu ! more an-a all dat, by 
gar." 

" Well but, Monsieur le count, is it not cruel to 
kill the poor fellows notwithstanding?" 

" Fgo/i .'" re])lied the count, throwing back his 
head, and puffing out his cheeks as when a segar 
sucker explodes a cataract of smoke from the crater 
of his throat; "cruel! vat cruel for kill-a de sol- 
dier ! by gar. Monsieur le colonel, you mnke-a de 
king of France laugh he hear-a you talk after dat 
fa^hong, Let-a me tell you, Monsieur le colonel, dc 
F2 



64 IKK LIFE OF 

,aig of France no like general Washington — by gar, 
general Washington talk ui' de soldier — he shake 
hand v/i' de soldier — he give de soldier dram — By 
gar, de grand Monarque no do so — no, sacra Dieu ! 
he no look at de soldier. When de king of France 
ride out in de coach rcyale wid de supeerb horses, 
and harness shining so bright all vim like gold, if he 
run over one soldier, you tink he going stop for dat : 
No, sacra foutre ! he ride on so, all one like if nothing 
at all been huppen. Jaun foutre de soldier ! let him 
prenez garde for himself ; by gar de grand Monarque 
no mind dat. De grand Tilonarque only tink of de 
soldier commes dcs ckitiis^ like de poor dam dog for 
^ght for him." 

Thus ended the dialogue between colonel Laurens 
;aid the count D'Estang. 

The next day, the memorable twenty-four hours 
being expired, a flag v/as sent into town to know the 
determination of the British officer, who very polite- 
ly replied, fnat having consulted his pillow, he had 
made up his mind to defend the place. A regular 
siege was tben commenced, and continued for three 
weeks : at the end of which an attack was made, and 
with the success v/hich INIarion had all along pre- 
dicted. After a full hour's exposure to the destruc- 
tive rage of grape shot and musketry, we were 
obliged to make a precipitate retreat ; leaving the 
ground covered with the mingled carcasses of 400 
Americans and SOO Frenchmen. Marion's corps 
fighting with their usual confidence, suffered great 
loss ; himself did not receive a scratch. Colonel 
Laurens raged like a v/ounded lion. Soon as the 
retreat was ordered he paused, and looking round on 
his fallen men, cried out, " Poor fellows, I envy you !" 
then hurling his sword in wratii against the ground, 
he retired. Presently, after we had reached our en- 
campment, he came to my marquee, and like one 
greatly disordered, said, '"' Horry, my life - bur- 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 65 

den to me; I would to God I was lying on yonder 
fi.eld at rest with my poor men !" 

'''• No I no ! iione of that, colonel," said I, " none of 
that,' X trust we shall live to pay them yet for all 
this." 

And so it turned out. And though for humanity's 
eake, I ought not to boast of it, yet we did live to pay 
them for it, and often too : and in the same bloody 
coin which they gave us that daj^ And although in 
that fiery season of my days, and when my dear 
country was in danger, it was but natural for me to 
rejoice in the downfall of my enemies, yet I was often 
witness to scenes, which to this day I can never think 
of but with soriow — as when, for example, after 
dashing upon an enemy by surprise, and cutting one 
half of them to pieces and chasing the rest, v/e re- 
turned to collect the horses and arms of the slain 
Who, I say, without grief could behold those sad 
sights which then offered themselves, of human be- 
ings lying mangled over the crimson ground — some 
stone dead, some still alive and struggling, with 
brains oozing from their cloven skulls — and others 
sitting up, or leaning on their elbov/s, but pale with 
loss of blood, running in streams from their mortal 
woiinds , and they themselves looking down, the 
while, sadly thinking of home and of distant wives 
and children, whom they shall never see again. 

Such thoughts, if often cherished, would much 
abate the rancour of malice in the hearts of those 
whose sad destiny it is to kill one another ; especially 
if It were known how short sometimes are the tri- 
umphs of the victor. It was remarkably so in the pre 
Bent case : for colonel Maitland, of the Highlanders, 
who had contributed a large part to this very unex- 
pected victory, was so elated by it, that he took to 
nard drinking, and killed himself in a szr,^ie rv^e/ci 
and the sickly season coming on, the ^ater isars 



of the garrison perished of the yellow or bilioui 
fever ! ! 

Thus friends and foes the same sad fortune shar'd. 
And sickness swallowed whom the sword had spar'd. 

Many gallant men were the victims of count D'Es- 
tang's folly in this affair; among the number was that 
impetuous Polander, the count Polaski. 

But none fell more universally lamented, than the 
heroic J aspcr. Eveiy reader must wish to hear the 
last of this brave and generous soldier. And they 
shall have it faithfully, for I happened to be close by 
him when he received his death's wound ; and I was 
with him when he breathed his last. 

Early in the action, the elegant colours presented 
by Mrs. Elliot, had been planted on the enemy's 
works ; and the fury of the battle raged near the spot 
where thev waved. During the whole of the bloody 
fray, Jasper had remained unhurt. But on hearing 
the retreat sounded, he rushed up to bear off his 
colours, and in that desperate act, was mortally 
wounded. As he passed by me, with the colours in 
his hands, I observed he had a bad limp in his walk. 

" You are not much hurt, I hope, Jasper," said I. 

" Yes, major," he replied, " I believe I have got ray 
furlough." 

" Pshaw," quoth I, ^'' furlough indeed, for what ?" 

" Why to go home," he answered, " to go to Hea- 
ven, I hope." 

" Pooh !" said I, and having, as the reader must 
suppose, a good deal to attend to, I turned off and 
left him. However, his words made such an impres- 
sion on me, that soon as duty permitted, I went to 
see him, and found too true what he had predicted ; 
the ball had opened a blood vessel in the lungs which 
no art could stop, and he was bleeding to slow but 
certain death. 

As I entered the tent, he lifted his eyes to me, but 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 67 

their fire was almost quenched ; and stretching his 
feeble hand, he said, with perfect tranquillity, " Well, 
major, I told you I had got my furlough." 

" I hope not," I replied. 

" O yes !" said he, " I am going — and very fast 
too ; but, thank God, I am not afraid tb go." 

I told him I knew he was too brave to fear death, 
and too honest to be alarmed about its consequences. 

"Why, as to that matter, sir," said he, " I won't 
brag: but I have my hopes, notwithstanding I may 
be wrong, for I know I am but a poor ignorant body, 
but somehow or other, I have always built my hopes 
of what God may do for me hereafter^ on what h 
has done for me here !" 

I told him I thought he was very correct In that. 

" Do you, indeed ?" said he. " Well, I am mighty 
glad of that — and now major, here's the v/ay I always 
comfort myself: Fifty years ago, (I say to myself,) 
I was nQt/iing-^'dnd had no thought that there was any 
such grand and beautiful world as this. But still 
there was such a world notv/ithstanding ; and here 
God has brought me into it. Now, can't he, in fifty 
years more, or indeed in fifty minutes more, bring 
me into another world, as much above this as this is 
above that state of nQthing^ wherein I was fifty years 
ago ?" 

I told him that this was, to my mind, a very happy 
way oi reasoning ; and such, no doubt, as suited the 
greatness and goodness of God. 

" I think so, major," said he " and I trust I shall 
find it so ; for though I've been a man of blood, yet, 
thank God, I've always lived with an eye to that 
great hope. My mother, major, was a good woman; 
when I was but a child, and sat on her lap, she used 
to talk to me of God, and tell how it was he vdio built 
this great world, Avith all its riches and good things : 
and not for himself^ bjt for me ! and also, that if I 
would but do his will id. tliat only acceptable way, a 



68 THE LIFE OF 

good hfe^ he would do still greater and bettct ihingt 
for me hereafter. 

" Well, major, from the mouth of a dear iiother, 
like her, these things went so deep into my heart, 
that they could never be taken away from me. 1 
have hardly ever gone to bed., or got up again, with- 
out saying my prayers. I have honoured my fathei 
and mother; and, thank God, been strictly honest. 
And since you have known me, major, I believe you j 
can bear witness, that though a strong man, I nevei j 
was quarrelsome.''^ 

I told him, nothing afforded me more satisfaction, 
than to remember that, since he was now going to 
die, he had always led so good a life. 

He answered, with tears in his eyes, that he had a 
good hope he was going where he should not do what 
he had been obliged to do in this world. " I've killed 
men in my time, major, but not in malice, but in whfit 
I thought a just war in defence of my countiy. And 
Vs I bore no malice against those I killed, neixher do 
I bear any against those who have killed me. And I 
heartily trust in God for Christ^s sake, that we shall 
vet, one day, meet together, where we shall forgive 
and love one another like brothers. I own, indeed, 
major, that had it so pleased God, I should have been 
glad to staij a little longer with you to fight for my 
country. But however, I humbly hope that my death 
is of God ; which makes it welcome to me, and so I 
bow me to his blessed will. And now, my good friend, 
as I feel I have but a little time to live, I beg you 
will do a few things for me when I am dead and 
gone." 

I could not speak : but gathering my answer from 
my tears, and the close press I gave his hand, he thua 
went on, but it was in a low voice and laborious. 

" You see that sword ? — It is the one which go- 
vernor Rutledge presented to me for my services at 
Fori Moultrie — give that sword to my father, and 



GKN. FRANCIS MARION. 69 

lell him I never dishonoured it. If he should weep 
for me, tell him his son died in hope of a better life. 
If you should see that great gentlewoman, Mrs. 
Elliot, tell her I lost my life in saving the colours she 
gave to our regiment. And if ever you should come 
across poor Jones and his wife, and little boy, tell 
them Jasper is gone ; but that the remembrance of 
the hard battle which he once fought for their sakes 
brottght a secret joy to nis heart just as it was abou 
to stop its motion for evei." 

He spoke these last words in a livelier tone than 
usual, but it was like the last kindling of the taper in 
its oil-less socket — for instantly the paleness of death 
overspread his face, and after a feeble effort to vomit^ 
with convulsions, the natural effect of great loss of 
blocwil, he sunk back and expired. 

From this victim of D'Estang's madness, I went 
with a heavy heart on parade, to take a review of the 
sad remains of the battle. The call of the roll com- 
pleted the depression of my spirits. To every fourth 
or fifth name there was no answ^er — the gloomy si- 
lence which ensued, told us where they v/ere. About 
twelve o'clock we sent in a flag to the garrison for 
permission to bury our dead. Curiosity led me to 
accompany the party destined to this mournful duty. 
I had prepared myself for a sorrowful sight ; but 
ah ! what words can express v/hat I then saw and 
Buffered ! 

A scattered fev/ lay here and there on th-e utmost 
verge ot the field, killed by cannon shot, and so man- 
gled, that in some instances, it was hard to tell who 
they were. As we advanced, they lay thicker and 
thicker. Some, nct quite dead, were constantly cry- 
ing, *' Water I water ! — Oh ' for God's sake, a little 
water i^-'-Others lay quite dead, but still their life- 
less visages retained the dark frowns of war. There, 
on the side of the enemy's breast-work, lay the brave 
tixfiigu Boushe, covering, vSth his dead body, the 



» Tim LIFE OF 

very spot where he had fixed the American standard. 
His face was pale and cold as the earth he pressed, 
but still it spoke the fierce determined air of one 
whose last sentiment towards those degenerate Bri- 
tons was, " There, d — n you ! look at the stripes of 
^berty." 

Close by ensign Boushe, lay that elegant young 
man, Alexander Hume, Esq. with his sword still 
grasped in his stiffened fingers. My heart bled within 
rne, when I looked on young Hume, where he lay in 
ill the pale beauties of death. He was to have been 
"Harried the week following, to a charming woman • 
Dut such was his zeal to serve his country, that he 
came a volunteer to our camp, and met his death the 
next morning after he joined us. Gifted with a pretty 
taste for painting, he had tried his skill, and very 
BUccessfuUy too, in sketching the likeness of his love- J 
iy mistress. For on opening his bosom, was found, ' 
suspended by a blue riband, (the happy lover's co- 
lour) a fine likeness of the beautiful Miss : tlie 

hack of the portrait was stained with his blood; but 
unconscious of her lover's fate, she still wore the en 
chanting smile with which yielding beautu views 
the you*h she loves. 

We then proceeded to bury our dead ; which v/as 
done by digging large pits, sufficient to contain about 
a hundred corpses. Then taking off their clothes, 
with heavy hearts, we threw them into the pits, with 
very little regard to order, and covered them over 
with earth. 

" Poor brothers, farewell ! the storm of your last 
battle has long ago ceased on the field, and no trace 
now remains on earth that you ever lived. The 
worms have devoured your flesh ; and the mounds 
raised over your dust, are sunk back to the common 
kvel with the plain. But ah ! could your mournful 
story be read, the youth of America would listen to ) 
the last words of Washington, and * study the art 



)tjH 



^EN. FRANCIS MARION. 7t 

war,' that their countrymen might no more be mur- 
dered by military quacks. 

As a hint to American office r«, I think it my duty 
to state the following fact : — Our fatal attack on Sa- 
vannah was made very early in the morning. A few 
hours previous thereto, a council of war was held; 
•and while it was deliberating, a deserter and spij had 
the address to bear a musket, as sentinel at the doo* 
'if the marquee 1 1 On hearing* where the attack was 
to be made, he ran off in the dark, and gave such in- 
telligence to the enemy, as enabled them very com- 
pletely to defeat us. The fellow was afterwards 
taken at the battle of liobkirk Hill, near Camden, 
and hung. 

Scarcely had we finished burying the dead, before 
the count D'Estang hurried on board his ships with 
his troops and artillery, while we, passing on in si- 
lence by the way of Zubley's ferry, returned to Caro- 
lina, and pitched our tents at Sheldon, the country 
seat of general Bull. 

The theatre of v/ar bemg, from this period, and 
for some time at least, removed to the northern 
states, the governor and council were pleased to re- 
duce the regiments, and dismiss tjhe supernumerary 
officers. To some of my brethren in arms, this was 
matter of serious alav m. But for myself, possessing, 
thank God, a liberal fortune in the country, and feel- 
ing no attraction to the camp, except when drawn 
thither by public danger, I was quite happy to hear 
of this new arrangement, and waited on his excel- 
lency to return my commission. 

Perhaps some may say it was pride in me, and 
that I did not like the idea of being unfrocked. Why, 
as to that matter, it is not for me to boast cf my 
standing among my superiors in those days. But 
this I must needs say, that it is joy enough, and 
glory enough too, for me to know, that I was always 
the iavrjurite of the great Marion ; and that he sel- 
G 



HE LIFE OF 

rfom ever asKcd tne lightning of any other swcrd 
than mhie, to lead his squadron to the charge. How- \ 
ever, the moment I heard, as above, that it was in 
agitation to reduce the regiments, I waited on the 
governor, and begged that, as there was nothirig 
doing, he would allow me to return to my planta* 
tion. To my plantation /<^'ir/ return, and there con- 
tinued till sprinp;, 1780, when Charleston was taken 
oy the British ; at which time, and for some weeks 
before, I vras grievously affiicted with the rheuma- 
tism. Thus by a providence, which, I confess. I did 
not at that time altogether like, I was kindly saved 
from being kidnapped bv tlie enemv, and also intro- 
duced into a field of some little service, I hope, to my 
country, and of no great dishonour to myself. Hoav- 
ever, be this as it may, the reader shall soon see, iuid 
then let him judge for himself. 



CHAPTER IX. 

Provukntial escape of Manoii out of Charleston — th4 
British fleet ami army iwovat and take that place — 
Tarleton and the British officers beg-in to let out — 
youn^' Scotch Macaonald coniea upon the turf — extra- 
ordinary anecdote of him — play.s a very curious trick 
en a rich old toru. 

HOW happy it is for man, that the autlior of his 
5eing lo\'es liim so much better than he loves him 
^elf ; and has established soclo^e a connexion betweer* 
his duty and his advantage. This delightful truth 
was remarkably exemplified in an event that bcfel 
Marion about this time, March, 1780. Dining with 
a squad of choice wj.igs, in Charleston, in the house 
of Mr. Alexande ^T' Queen Trauu stre( t,he v/as so 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. U 

fiequcntly pressed to bumpers of old wine, that ho 
found himself in a fair way to get drunk. 'Twas in 
vain he attempted to beat a retreat. Tlie company 
swore, that that xvould never do for general Marion^ 
Finding, at last, that there was no other way of es- 
caping a debauch^ but by leaping out of one of the 
windows of the dining-room, which was on the se- 
cond story, he bravely imdertook it. It cost him, 
however, a broken ankle. When the story got about 
\x\ Charleston, most people said he was a great fool 
'^or his pains ; but the event soon proved that Ma- 
rion was in the right, and that there is no policy like 
sticking to a man^s duty. For, ])ehold ! presently 
Charleston was invested by a large British army, and 
the American general (Lincoln) finding Marion was 
utterly unfit for duty, advised him to push off in a 
litter to his seat in St. John's parish. Thus providen- 
tially was Marion preserved to his country when 
Charleston ff.dl, as it soon did, with all our troops. 

The spirits of the British were so raised by the 
capture of our metropolis with all the southern army, 
that they presently began to scour the neighbouring 
country. And never victors, perha])s, had a country 
more completely in their power. Their troops were 
of the choicest kind ; excellently equipped, and com- 
manded by active, ambitious young fellows, who 
looked on themselves as on the high road to fortune 
among the conquered rebels. They all carried with 
them pocket maps of South Carolina, on which they 
were constantly poring like }'Oung spendthrifts on 
their fathers' last testaments. They would also ask a 
world of questions, such as, " where lay the richest 
lands ? — and the finest situations ? — and who were 
the warmest old fellows, and had the finest girls?" 
and when answered to tlieir humour, they would 
break out into hearty laughs ; and flourish their 
sv/ords, and zvhoop and hole it away like young fojc* 
hunters, just striking on a fresh tiail. 



74 THE LIFE OF 

Some of them had Dr. IVIadan's famous book, call- 
ed " Th\ lipthora, or a Defence of Polygamy," v/kh 
which they were prodigiously taken, and talked very 
freely of reducing the system to practice. Cornwal- 
lis, it seems, was to be a bashaw of three tails — Raw- 
don and Tarleton, of tico each — and as a natural ap- 
pendage of such high rank, they were to have their 
seraglios and harams filled M'ith the greatest beauties 
o^ die country. 

**" Huzza, my brave fellows !" — diey would sav to 
each other; *'' one more campaign and the hash will be 
settled with die d — d rebels, and tlien stand by the 
girls! — stand by the jNliss Piiickneys ! and Elliots! 
and Rutledges ! and all your bright-eyed, soft bosom- 
ed, lovely dames, look sharp ! Egad ! your charms 
shall reward our xalour ! like the grand Turk, we'll 
have regiments of our own raising! Charleston shall 
be our Constantinople ! and our Ciixassia, this sweet 
Carolina famed for beauties ! Prepare the baths, the 
perfumes, and spices ! bring fordi the violins and the 
rose buds ! and tap the old iNIadeira, that our souls 
may all be joy !" > 

'Twas in this way they would rant ; and tken, 
brightened up to the pitch, they vrould look and grin 
on each other as sweetly as young foxes, M-ho, prowl- 
ing round a farm yard, had suddenly heard the cack 
ling of the roo^ffcr pullets. The reader shall present* 
[y see the violent and bloody course c^f these ruffians, 
who did siich dishonour to die glorious island they 
came from. But before I begin my tragedif^ I beg 
leave, by way of prologue, to entertain him a momen^, 
with a very curious /cint* that was acted un a wealthy 
old tory, near Monk s Corner, while colonel Tarleton, 
with the British advance, lay dieie. 

'I'he hero of the play "was a remarkably stout, red- 
haired young Scotsman, named iMacdonald,son of the 
Macdonald of famous defeat at IMorris Creek Bridge 
North Carolina. Soon after the defeat of his father. 



GEN. FRANXIS IMAKION. 75 

fie came and joined our troop?. I.cd ny curiosity, I 
could not help, one day, asking him the reason : to 
which he made, in substance, the following reply. 

'•' Immediately on the misfortune of my father and 
his friends at the Great Bridge, I fell to thinking M'hat 
could be the cause ; and then it struck me that it must 
have been owing to their own monstrous ingratitude. 
" Here now," said I to myself, " is a parcel of people, 
meaning my poor father and his friends, who fled from 
the murderous swords of the English after the mas- 
sacre at Culloden. Well, they came to America, with 
hardly any thing but their poverty and mournful looks 
But among this friendly people that was enough. — » 
Every eye that saw us, had pity ; and every hand was 
reached out to assist. They received us in their 
houses as though we had been their own unfortunate 
brothers. They kindled high their hospitable fires for 
us, and spread their feasts, and bid us eat and drink 
and banish our sorrows, for that we were in a land of 
friends. And so indeed we found it ; for, whenever 
we told of the woful battle of Culloden, and how the 
English gave no quarter to our unfortunate countrv- 
men, but butchered all they could overtake, these 
generous people often gave us their tears, and said, 
'*(9/ that 7ve had been there to aid ivith oar rijics^ then 
should jnanif of those inonsterf have hit the ^-roundy 
They received us into the bosoms of their peaceful 
forests, and gave us their lands and their beauteous 
daughters in marriage, and we became rich. And yet, 
after all, soon as the English came to America, to 
murder this innocent people, mcrelv for refusing to 
he their slaves, then my father and friends, forgetting 
all that the Americans had done for them, went and 
joined the British, to assist them to cut die throats of 
tneir hest friends I 

^•^ Nozik'' said I to myself, " if ever there vjas a time 
Jor God to stand np to punish ingratitude^ this "zrr's 
the time.'''' And God did stand up : for he enab>od ^.€ 
02 



A 



76 THE LIPE OB 

Americans to defeat my father and his friends mot 
completely. But, instead of murdering the prison, 
ers, as the English had done at CuUoden, they treat, 
ed us with their usual generosity. And now these are, 
*' the people I love and will fight for as long as I live.'' 
And so he did fight for us, and as undauntedly too as 
George Washington ever did. 

This was young Scotch Macdonald. Now the cu- 
rious trick which he played, is as follows. 

Soon as he heard that colonel Tarleton was en- 
camped at Monk's Corner, he Aventthe next morning 
to a wealthy old tory of that neighbourhood, and 
passing himself for a sergeant of colonel Tarleton's 
corps, presented that officer's compliments, adding 
that colonel Tarleton was just come to drive the re- 
bels out of the country, and knowing him to be a 
good friend of the king, begged he would send him 
one of his best horses for a charger, and that he 
should be no loser by it. 

'* ^<"nd him one of my finest horses !" cried the old 
'j-aitor, witn eyes sparkling with joy; " Yes, Mr. Ser- 
geant, that I will, by gad ! and would send him one of 
my finest daughters too, had he but said the word. 
A good friend of the king, did he call me, Mr. Ser- 
geant? yes, God save his sacred majesty, a good 
friend I am indeed, and a true. And, faith ! I am 
glad too, Mr. Sergeant, that colonel knows it. Send 
him a charger to drive the rebels, heh ? Yes, egad will 
I send him one, and as proper a one too, as ever a 
soldier straddled. Dick ! Dick ! I say you Dick !" 

" Here, massa, here ! here Dick !" 

" Oh, you plaguy dog ! so I must always split my 
throat with bawling, before I can get you to answer 
heh r 

" Uigh^ massa ! sure Dick always answer when h 
hear massa hallo /" 

" You do, you villain, do you ? — Well then, run ' 
jump! fly, you rascal, fly to tnc stable, and bring me 



Pao:e 77. 




AVDonaid'e trick on the old Tory] 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 77 

out Selim, my young Selim ! do you hear ? you vil- 
lain, do you hear ?" 

" Tes, massa^ be sure /" 

Then turning to Macdonald, he went on : " Well, 
Mr. Sergeant, you have made me confounded glad 
this morning, you may depend. And now suppose 
you take a glass of peach ; of good old peach, Mr. 
Sergeant ? do you think it would do you any harm ?'' 

" V/hy, they say it is good of a rainy morning, 
sir," replied Macdonald. 

" O yes, famous of a rainy morning, Mr. Sergeant * 
H mighty antifogmatic. It prevents you the ague, 
Mr. Sergeant; it clears a man's throat of the cob- 
webs, sir." 

" God bless your honour !" said Macdonald, as he 
turned off a bumper of the high-beaded cordial. 

But scarcely had he smacked his lips, before Dick 
paraded Selim ; a preud, full-l)looded, stately steed 
that stepped as though he disdained the earth he 
walked upon. 

Here the old fellow brightening up, broke out 
again ; " Aye ! there, Mr. Sergeant, there is a horse 
for you ! is'nt he, my boy V 

" Faith, a noble animal, sir," replied Macdonald. 

" Yes, egad ! a noble animal indeed ! — a charger 
for a king, Mr. Sergeant ! — Well, my compliments to 
colonel Tarleton ; tell him I've sent him a horse, my 
youg Selim, my grand Turk, do you hear, my son 
of thunder ? And say to the colonel that I don't 
grudge him neither, for egad! he's too noble for mc, 
Mr. Sergeant. I've no work that's fit for him, sir; 
no ! damme, sir, if there's c\|^y work in all this coun- 
try that's good enough for him, but just that which 
he is now going on; the driving the d — d rebels out 
of the land." 

And in order to send Selim off in high style, he 
ordered Dick to bring down his elegant new saddle 
and holsters, with his silver-mounted pistols. Theii 



TS 'IHE LIFE OF 

giving Macdonald a hot breakfast, and lending hi^^ 
his great coat, as it was raining, he let him go, with 
a promise that he would come next morning and see 
how colonel Tarleton liked )'Oimg Sclim. 

Accordingly next morning he \vaited on colonel 
Tarleton, and told his name, with the smiling coun- ^ 
tenance of one who expected to be eaten up with 
fondness. But alas! to his inhnite mortification, 
Tarleton heard his name without the least change of 
feature. 

After recovering a little from his embarrassment, 
he asked colonel Tarleton how he liked his charg^er, 

" Charger, sir!" replied Tarleton. 

" Yes, sir, the elegant horse I sent you yesterday." 

" The elegant horse you sent me, sir !" 

"Yes, sir, and by your sergeant, sir, as he called 
himself." 

" An elegant horse ! and by my sergeant ! Why 
really, sir, I-I-I don't understand all this !" 

The looks and voice of colonel Tarleton too sadly 
convinced the old traitor that he had been bit ; and 
that young Selim was gone ! then trembling and pale, 
cried out, "' Why, my dear good sir, did you not send 
a sergeant yesterday with your compliments to me, 
and a request that I would send you my very best 
horse for a charger, which I did ?" 

" No, sir, never !" replied Tarleton : " I never sent 
a sergeant on any such errand. Nor till this moment 
did I ever know that there existed on eartli such a 
being as you." 

To have been outwitted in this manner by a rebel 
sergeant — to have lostt^his peach brandy — his hot 
breakfast — his great coat — his new saddle — his silver 
mounted pistols — and, worse than all, his darling j 
/wrst\ his young, full-blooded, bounding Sclim — all 
these keen reflections, like so many forked lightnings, 
I'aUing at once on the trnin and tinder of his passions- 
blew them up to such a diabolical rage that the old sIb 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 79 

Qer had like to have been suffocated on the spot. Ha 
turned black in the face ; he shook thi-oughout ; and 
as soon as he could recover breath and power of 
speech, he broke out into a torrent of curses, enough 
to raise the hair on any Christian man's head. 

Nor was colonelTarlcton much behind liim, when 
he came to learn what a noble horse had slipped 
dirough his hands. And a noble horse he was in- 
deed ! Full sixteen hands higli ; the eye of a hawk; 
the spirit of the king eagle ; a chest like a lion ; swifter 
than a roebuck, and strong as a bufl'alo. 

I asked Macdonald, how he could reconcile it to 
himself to take die old poltroon's horse in that way ? 

" Why, sir," replied he, *"' as to that matter, people 
iV'ill think difTerendy; but for my part I hold that all 
:s fair in ivar : and, besides, sir, if I had not taken 
him, colonel Tarleton, no aoubt, would have got 
him. And then, with such a swift strong charger aa 
this, he might do us as much harm as I hope to do td 
them." 

And he did do them harm widi a vengei^nce ; for 
he had no more sense of fear than a hungry tiger. 
And, as to his strengdi, it was such, that widi one of 
Potter's blades he would make no more to drive 
through cap and skull of a British dragoon, than a 
boy would, with a case-knife, to chip olf die head of 
a carrot. And then, he always kept Selim up so lust- 
ily to the top of his metal. He was so fdnd of him, 
that I verily believe he would at any time have sold 
tlie shirt olf his l)ack to get corn iox him. And trulv 
Selim was not much his debtor; tor, at the Hrst flash 
and glimpse of a red coat,, he woui i paw and champ 
his iron bit with rage ; and the mo'iient he heard the 
word "^''0," off he was among them like a thunder' 
bolt. 

And to see how Macdonald would charj^e^ you 
would swear the fear of death was never before hi a 
eyes. Whether it was o?ii: or tt7i against him, it made 



90 THE LIFE OF 

no odds to this gallant Scotsman. He never stoppec^ 
to count noses, but would dash in upon the thickest 
of them, and fdW to he^ving and cutting down like a 
very fury incarnate. 

Poor Macdcnald ! the arm of his strength is no^^ 
in dust ; and his large red cheeks have, long ago 
been food for worms : but never shall I forget when 
first I saw him fight. 'Twas in the days when the 
British held Georgetown ; and Marion had said to 
me, ** Go and reconnoitre." I took only Macdonald 
with me. Before day we reached our place of con- 
cealment, a thick clump of pines near tlie road, and 
in full view of the enemy's lines. Soon as the bonny 
gray-eyed morning began to peep, we heard the town 
all alive, as it were, with drums and fifes ; and about 
sunrise, beheld five dragoons turn out, and with 
prancing steeds dash up the road towards us. I turned 
my eye on Macdonaid, and saw his face all kindled up 
with the joy of battle. It was like that terrible joy 
which flashes from the eyes of an ambushed lion, when 
he beholds the coming forth of the buifaloes towardoi 
his gloomy cave. '' Zounds, IMacdonald,'* said I 
** here's an odds against us, five to two." *'' By my soul 
now captain," he replied, " and let 'em come on 
Three are welcome to the sword of IVIacdonald." 

Soon as they were come fairly opposite to us, we 
gave them a blast from our bugles, and with drawn 
sabres broke in upon them like a tornado. 

Their panic was complete ; two we stopped, over- 
thrown and weltering in the road. The remaining 
three wheeled about, and taking to their heels, went 
oir as if old Nick had been bringing up the rear. Then 
you might have heard the roar, ancl seen the dust, 
which dragoons can raise, when, with whip and spur 
and wildly rolling eyes, they bend forward from the 
pursuit ot death. ]My charger being but a heav) 
brute, was soon distanced. But they could not dis- 
tance the swift-footed Se'im. Rapid as tlie deadJy 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 81 

blast of the desert, he pursued tlieir dusty course, still 
pathering upon them at every jump. And before they 
could reach the town^tlioagh so near, he brought his 
furious rider alongside of two of them, whom he cut 
down. One hundred yards further, and the third alsc 
would have been slain ; for Macdonald, with his 
crimson cla3'^more, was within a few steps of him, 
when the guns of the fort compelled him to retire. 
However, though quickly pursued by the enemy, he 
ha<l the address to bring off an elegant horse o5 one 
of the dragoons whom he had killed. 



CHAPTER X. 



. Tfie abomhiatwn and desolation set up in South Card 
Una — tht author^ with sorrowful hearty quits hif 
native land^ and Jlies to the ?iorth in quest of war^ 
like friends — fortunate rencontre ivith his gallant 
friend colonel Marion — curious adventures. 

AFTER the capture of Charleston, with all our 
troops, the British, as aforesaid, began to spread them- 
selves over the country. Then was exhibited a spec- 
tacle, which for sadness and alarm, ought never to be 
forgotten by the people of America. I mean how easy 
a thing it is for a small l)ody of soldiers to overrun a 
populous and powerful country. The British did not, 
after Sir Henry Clinton's return to New York, exceed 
three thousand men; and South Carolina alone, at the 
lowest computation, must have contained ffty ihou" 
ita?id! and yet this host of poor honest men were made 
to trcz:ible before that handful of ruffians, as a flock of 
sheep before the wolf, or a houseful of little children 
before a dark frowning pedagogue. The reason is 
immensely plain. The British were all embodied and 
firm as a rock of granite ; the Carolinians were scat- 
H 



82 THE LIFE OF 

tered over the country loose as a rope of sand : the 
British all well armed and disciplined, moved in 
dreadful harmony, giving their fire like a volcano : 
the Carolinians, with no other than birding pieces, 
Rnd strangers to the art of war, were comparatively 
feeble as a forest of glow-worms : the British, though 
but units in number, were so artfully arranged that 
they told for myriads ; while, for lack of unity, the 
Carolinians, though numerous as myriads, passed 
only for ciphers. In short, the British were a handful 
of hawks ; the poor Carolinians a swarm of rice-birds, 
and rather than be plucked to the pin feather, or pick- 
ed to the bone, they and their little ones, they were 
Vin to Hatter those furious falcons^ and oft times to 
4iirp and sing v/hen they were much in the humoui 
*o hate and curse. 

Oh ! blind indeed, and doubly blind is that people, 
and well worthy of iron yokes, who, enjoying all the 
sweets of liberty, in a land of milk and honey, can 
expose to foreign Philistines, that blessed Canaan, un- 
guarded by military science. Surely those who thus 
throw " their pearl btfore swine," richly deserve that 
the beast should turn again and trample them^ and 
their treasures toe, into the mire. Yes, and had it not 
been for a better watch than our own, at this day, like 
the -wietched Irish, we should have been trampled 
mto the mire of slavery; groaning under heavy bur 
dens to enrich our task-masters ; and doomed on 
every fruitless attempt at freedom, to fatten th« 
buzzards with our gibbeted carcasses. 

For lack of this habitual military preparation on 
our part, in a few days after the fall of Charleston, 
Col. Tarleton, with only one hundred and fifty horse, 
galloped up to Georgetown, through the most popu- 
lous part of the state, with as much hauteur as an 
overseer and his boys would gallop through a negro 
plantation ! To me this was the signal for clearing- out. 
Accordingly, though still in much pain from the rheu 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 8.^ 

matism, I mounted my horse, and with sword and 
pistol by my side, set out for the northward, in quest 
of friendly powers to aid our fallen eause. In passing 
through Georgetown, I saw a distant group of peo- 
ple, to whom I rode up, and with great civiiitif^ as I 
thought, asked the nnu.s. To Avhich a young fellow 
very scornfully replied, that " Cc.lonel Taileton wns 
coming, and that ihe country, llrank God, would soon 
be cleared of the continental colonels." 

I was within an ace of drawing a pistol and shoot- 
ing the voung slave dead upon the spot. But God was 
pleased to give me patience to hear up under that hea- 
vy cross; for which I have since very heartily thank- 
ed him a thousand times and more. And indeed, on 
thinking over the matter, it has often struck me, that 
the man who could speak in that v/ay to one who had 
on, as he saw, the American uniform, must be a sa- 
vage, and therefore not an object of anger, but of pity. 
But though my anger was soon over, nothing could 
cure the melancholy into which this affiiir thrcw^ me. 
To see my native country thus prostrate under fo- 
reign usurpers, the generality quite disheartened, and 
the few, who dared to take her part, thus publicly in- 
sulted, was a shock I was not prepared for, and which, 
therefore, sunk my spirits to the lowest ebb of despon- 
dence. Such was the frame of mind wherein I left 
my native state, and set out, sick and alone, for the 
northward, with scarce a hope of ever seeing bettei 
days. About the middle of the second day, as I beat 
my solitary road, slowly winding through the silent, 
gloomy woods of North Carolina, I discovered, just 
htforc me, a stranger and his servant. Instantly my 
heart sprang afresh for the pleasures of society, anc^ 
quickening my pace, I soon overtook the gentleman, 
wh.en lo ! who should it be but the man first of all ii> 
my wishes, though the last in my expectations ; who 
I say, should it be but Marion ! Our mutual surprise 
was great. " Good heavens I'' we both exclaimed Iv 



84 THE LIFE OF 

the same moment, " Is that colonel Marion ?" " Is 
that Horry ?" After tlie first transports of that joy, 
which those who have been long absent from dear 
friends, can better conceive than I describe, we be- 
gan to inquire into each other's destinations, which 
was found to be the same ; both flying to the north 
for troops to fight the British. We had not rode far 
when Marion, after looking up to the sun, who was 
now past his half-way house, came suddenly to a halt, 
and said, " Well, come Horry, I feel both peckish 
and weary, and here is a fine shade, so let us go down 
and rest, and refresh ourselves awhile." 

Where'ipon I dismounted; and with the help of his 
servant, for his ankle was yet very crazy, got him down 
too. Then, sitting side by side, on the trunk of a 
fallen pine, we talked over the mournful state of our 
country ; and came at last, as we had always ^ jne, to 
this solemn conclusion, that we would stand jy her 
like true children, and either conquer or die "w th her. 

After this, a piece of dried beef was paraded, from 
Marion's saddle-bags, with a loaf "of Indian bread and 
a bottle of brandy. The wealthy reader may smile at 
this bill of fare ; but to me it was a feast indeed. For 
joy, like a cordial, had so raised my spirits, and re- 
mvigorated my system, that I fed like a thresher. 

I shall never forget an expression which Marion 
let fall dvixing otir repast, and which, as things have 
turned out, clearly shows what an intimate acquaint- 
ance he had with human nature. I happened to say 
that I was afraid '' our happy days were all gone." 

" Pshaw, Horry," he replied, *"' don't give way to 
such idle fears. Our happu daijs are not all gone. On 
the contrary, the victory is still sure. The enemy, it 
is true, have all the trumps in their hands, and if 
they had but spirit to play a generous game^ would 
certainly ruin us. But they have no idea of that 
game ; but will treat the people cruelly. And thiM 
ene thing will ruin them, and save Amertca."' 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 85 

" 1 pray God," said I, " it may be so." 

" Well, don't be afmid," replied he, ^' you will aS' 
htiredly see it,'''' 

Having despatched our simple dinner, we mounted 
again and pursued our journey, but with feelings so 
difTerent from what I had before this meeting, as made 
me more sensible than ever ^Y^v<it a divine thing friend 
ship is. And well indeed it was for us that our hearts 
were so ricii in fneiiclHlup^ for our pockets were as 
bare of gold and silver as if there were no such metals 
on earth. And but for carrying a knife, or a horse- 
fleam, or a p;un-flint, we liad no more use for a pocket 
than a Highlander has for a knee-buckle. As to hard 
money, we had not seen a dollar for years ; and of old 
continental, bad as it was, we had received but little, 
and that little was gone away like a flash ; as the rea- 
der may well suppose, when he comes to learn, that 
a bottle of rum would sweep fifty dollars. 

And so here were two continental colonels of us, 
just started on a journey of several hundre-J miles, 
without a cent in pocket! But though poor in gold, 
we were rich in faith. Burning patriots ourselves, v/e 
h'c^d counted on it as a certainty, that every body we 
met, out of )-each of the British, were as fiery as we 
and that the first sight of our uniforms would com 
mand smiling countenances, and hot suj^pers, an(i 
downy beds, and mint slings ; and in short, every thing 
that our hearts could wish. But, alas and alack the 
mistake ! For instead of being smiled on every where 
along the road as the champions of liberty, we were 
often grinned at as if v/c had been hor.se thieves. In 
place of being hailed ^vith benedictions, we w^ere fre- 
'[uently in danger from the brick bats; and in lieu of 
hot diimers and suppers, we were actually on the point 
u{ starving, both we and our horses ! For in conse- 
quence of candidly telling the publicans that '''"(.veluid 
notlizny to paii,^'' tliev as candidly declared, ''Ulicy had 
notf'wi^ to q-roC'-''^ and that *^ those that had no tnone'^ 
H2 



66 THE LIFE OF 

had no busrness to travel.''^ At length we came tt the 
resolution to say nothing about our poverty^ but, after 
getting such things as we wanted, to give our due bills 
In this we felt ourselves perfectly warranted ; for wt; 
had, both of us, thank God, very sufficient estates; 
and besides, turning out, as we did, to fight for our 
countiy, we thought we had, even by sacred precept, 
a very fair claim on that country for a little food. 

I remember, one evening, after dark, we reached a 
tavern, the owner of which at first seemed very fond 
of accommodating us. But as soon as a lighted wood 
torch had given him a glimpse of our regimentals, 
^\ie rogue began to hem and ha^to tell us of 3. mighty 
Hne tavern about five miles further on. 

We begged him to recollect that it was night, and 
also very rainy, and as dark as pitch. 

" Oh /'' quoth he, " the road in rnighty plain ; you 
cmi't viiss your zvayS'' 

-' But consider, sir, we are sti-angers.'' 

" C^'^ , ^ never liked strangerfi in all my life.'''* 

*' But, i>ir, we are your countrymen, American offi* 
cers, going to the north for men to fight your battles." 

" Oh ! I wants nobody to fight my battles ; king 
George is good enough for me." 

" But, sir, we have travelled all day long without 
a mouthful for ourselves or horses." 

To this also the brute was preparing some fit an- 
swer, when his wife, who appeared to be a very gen- 
teel woman, with a couple of charming girls, her 
daughters, ran out and declared that " take us in he 
could, and should, that he should; and that he might as 
well consent at first, for they would not be said nay." 

Even against all this, he stood out for some time ; 
'will at length his wife reminded him, that though the 
British were carrying every thing before them in 
South Carolina, yet that Washington \|'as still in the 
field, and the issue of the war unknown ; and that at 
arv rate it was srood t.n hm\*' q friend at court. 



Page 86. 




The Author and Marion expostulating zi^icn lJi& 
Innkeeper, 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. S# 

On this he came to a pause ; and at length rcluc 
tantly drawled out, " Well — I suppose — you must— 
tronie — in." 

I have related this story, partly to show what a sa- 
vage man would be without that softening, polishing 
friend, a good wife. 

Observing that we were wet and cold, this amiable 
woman and her daughters soon had kindled up for us a 
fine sparkling fire, to which their own sweetly smiling 
looks gave tenfold cheerfulness and comfort. And 
while the husband went poking about the house, si- 
lent and surly as an ill-natured slave, the ladies dis- 
played towards us the most endearing attentions. The 
mother brought out from her closet a bottle of nice 
family cordial, to warm and cheer us ; while the girls 
presented basins of water and towels, that we might 
wash and refresh ourselves after our fatigue. And 
all these seasonable hospitalities they did, not with 
that ungracious silence and reserve, which so often 
depress the traveller's spirits, but with the charming 
alacrity of daughters or sisters, so sweetening every 
thing with smiles and sprightly chat as almost made 
us feel ourselves at home. 

As with deep struck thought, I compared our pre- 
sent happy condition with that a few minutes before, 
benig-htcd^ wet and wavij^ I could not help exclaim 
i-ng, '' O my God ! what pity it is that among so many 
labours which poor mortals take under the sun, they 
do not labour more for that which alone deserves their 
care, I mean that lovc^ which at once diffuses and 
enjoys all the happiness both of earth and heaven." 

At supper, the poor creature of a husband strove 
very hard to draw Marion into a dispute, about what 
he was pleased to call our " rebellion." I expect- 
ed to have heard him lashed very severely for such 
brutality; for few men ever excelled Marion in the 
retort abrupt. But every time the subject was intro- 
duced, he contrived very handsomely to waive it,bv 



89 THE LIFE OF 

some pretty turn to the ladies, which happily relieved 
their terrors, and gave a fresh spring to general and 
sprightly conversation. 

As our excellent hostess and her fair daughters 
were about to retire, we bade them ^^ood n'li^Jit^ and 
also adieu^ telling them that we meant to ride very 
early in the morning. To this thev stoutly objected; 
urging that, from our fatigue and fasting, we ought to 
pass a day or t>vo with them, and refresh ourselves. 
But if we could not do this, wc must at any rate stay 
and give them the pleasure of our company at break- 
fast. 

When we retired to our chamber, I asked Marion 
why he had not given that brute, our landlord, a 
proper act down. 

'^ I am surprised at you, Horry," he replied ; "when 
3'ou see that your fellow man is WTctched, can't you 
give him quarter ? You must have observed, ever 
since we darkened his door, that w4th spleen and tory- 
ism, this poor gentleman is in the condition of him in 
the parable^ who was possessed of seven devils. Since 
we have not the power to cast them out., let us not 
torvient him before his time. Besides, this excellent 
woman his wife; these charming girls his ^!^?^^7z/er*. 
They love him, no doubt, and therefore, to us, a| 
least, he ought to be sacred, because surrounded by 
their affections." 

The next morning while breakfast Avas preparing, 
the churl renewed his hostilities, by telling us, with 
a malignant pleasure in his face, that he and his 
neighbours were mtiking ready to go to South Caro- 
lina for negroes. 

" For negroes !" replied Marion; "pray sir, what 
do you mean by that." 

" Why, sir," returned he, " Soutli Carolina is no^v 
all one as conquered by the British, and why may wc 
not go and pick up what negroes we can? They 
would help me in my cora-field yonder." 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 89 

Marion asked him whether, if he were to find his 
negroes, he would think it right to take them ? 

" To be sure I would," answered he. " You great 
men who choose to fight against your king, are all 
now running away. And why may I not go and catch 
your negroes as well as any body else ?" 

" My God !" replied Marion, with a deep sigh, 
*' what will this world come to V and turned the con 
versation. 

Soon as breakfast was over, we took leave of this 
most unequally yoked couple, and their lovely daugh- 
ters, and continued our journey. We had not got far 
from the house when Marion's servant rode up, and, 
with a very smirking face, told his master that he be- 
lieved the gentlewoman where we stayed last night. 
must hti IX monstrous Jine lady! Marion asked him 
why he thought so. " Why, sir," replied he, " she 
not only made me almost burst myself with eating 
and drinking, and all of the very iDCst, but she has 
gone and filled my portmanteau too, filled it up chock 
full, sir ! A fine ham of bacon, sir, and a pair of 
roasted fowls, with two bottles of brandy, and a mat- 
ter of a peck of biscuit." 

" God bless the dear lady !" w^e both exclaimed at 
the same moment. And I trust God did bless her. 
For indeed to us she was a kind angel, who not only 
refreshed our bodies, but still more, feasted our souls. 

And though e^ght and twenty long years have 
rolled away since that time, I can still see that angel 
smile which brightened on her face towards us, and 
the memory of which springs a joy in my heart be- 
yond what the memory of his money bags ever gave 
to the miser. 

On the evening of the same day that we left this 
charming family, (I mean the fairer part of it) we 
reached the house of colonel Thatcher, one of the no- 
blest whigs in North Carolina. His eyes seemed as 
though they would never tire in gazing on our regi- 



90 THE LIFE OF 

mentals. We soon gave him tlie history of our tra- 
vels through his native state, and of tlie very uncivil 
manner in which his countrymen had treated us. He 
smiled, and bid us be thankful, for that it was en- 
tirely of God's mercy that we had comt off ^"^o ivell. 
** Those people," continued he, " are mere Hotten- 
tots; a set of unenlightened miserable tories, who 
know nothing of the grounds of the war ; nothing of 
the rights and blessings we are contending for ; nor 
of the corruptions and cruelties of the British minis- 
try; and are therefore just as ready to fall into theii 
destructive jaws, as young cat-birds are to run into 
the mouth cf a rattle-snake." 



CHAPTER XL 



Glorious 7iexvs — a brave army of continentals comtng 
up — Mario7i and the author hasten to meet them ai 
Roanoke-— fortunately get introduced to the baron de 
Kalb — polite reception by that amiable ofjicer — curi" 
ous and interesting conversation. 

AFTER spending two days of very welcome re- 
pose with the elegant colonel Thatcher, we took leave 
and set out for Hillsborough, where we met general 
Huger and colonel W. White, of the horse, who told 
us the glorious news, that " Washington had sent on 
a gallant detachment of continentals, who were now 
in full march to aid South Carolina." 

Our hearts leaped for joy at the news. So great 
was our impatience to see what our hearts had so long 
and so fondly dwelt on, a?! army of friends ^ih^t we 
could not wait until they came up, but hurried off in 
ptantly to meet them at Roanoke, where it w^as said 
they were crossing. On reaching the river, we found 
lliat they had all got over, and had just formed their 
line of march. O ! how lovelv is the sisrht of fri<"jids 
n the day of our danger I We have had many mill 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION 91 

tary corps, but none had ever interested us like ihis. 
in shiniiij^ regimentals and glittering arms, they 
moved before the eye of the glowing fancy like a host 
of heroes. 

Thrice happy for man, that a veil, dark as the grave, 
is thrown over iuturc events ! For how could we, 
who had seen one nne army butchered at Savannah 
and another captured at Charleston, have borne uj) 
under the dreadful prospect of having this gallant 
armament also destroyed in a few days ! 

Soon as our first paroxysm of joy had a little sub- 
sided, we moved toward head quarters^ where we 
had the good fortune to fall in with our old friend Col. 
Semp, who appeared overjoyed to see us, and imme- 
diately offered to introduce us to the general. His ex- 
cellency Horatio Gates was the commander in chief 
but as he had not yet arrived, the command rested on 
that brave old German general, the baron de Kalb. 

It was to this officer that colonel Semp introduced 
us, and, as was usual with him, in very flattering 
terms; styling us " continental colonels, and two of 
the wealthiest and most distinguished patriots o( 
South Carolina !" 

I shall ne^'ei forget what I felt when introduced 
to this gontluman. He appeared to be rather elderly. 
But though the snow of winter was on his locks, h*8 
cliecks vvei'i still reddt^ned over with the bloom of 
spring. His person was large and manly, above the. 
common size, with great nerve and activity ; whih; 
(lis fine blue eyes expressed the mild radiance of in- 
telligence and goodness. 

He received us very politely, saying he was giaa to 
^ee us, '' especially as we were tiie first Carolinians ih.r*. 
he had seen ; which had not a little surprised him." 

Observing, 1 suppose, that we laboured undei ra- 
ther loo nr.ich of our national weakness, 1 mean mo- 
desly, lie kindly redoubled his attentions to us, ami 
soon succeeded in curing us of our reserve. 



9« THE LIIE OF 

"I thought,'* said he, " that British tyranny woo/j 
have sent great numbers of the South Carolinians to 
join our arms. But, so far from it, they are all, as 
we have been told, running to take British protec- 
tions. Surely they are not tired already of fighting 
for liberty." 

We told him the reason was very plain to us, v/ho 
were inhabitants of that country, and knew very well 
the state of things there. 

"Aye," replied he, "well, Avhat can the reason 
be?" 

"Why, sir," answered Marion, "the people of 
Carolina form but two classes, the rich and the poor. 
The poor are generally very poor, because, not being 
necessary to the rich, who have slaves to do all their 
work, they get no employment from them. Being 
thus unsupported by the rich, they continue poor and 
low spirited. They seldom get money ; and indeed, 
what little they do get, is laid out in brandy to raise 
their spirits, and not on books and newspapers to ^^iX 
information. Hence they know nothing of the com- 
parative blessings of their ov/n country, nor of the 
great dangers which threaten it, and therefore care 
nothinf^ about it. As to the other class, the rich, 
they aie generally very rich, and consequently afraid 
to stir, unless a fair chance offer, lest the British 
ould burn their houses ana furniture, and carry olf 
eir negroes and stock. But permit me to assure 
u, sir, that though thus kept under by fear, they 
11 mortally hate the British, and will, I ain conti 
cnt, the moment they see an army of friends at their 
oor, fly to their standard, like a generous pack to 
he sound of the horn that calls them to the chase of 
hated wolf." 

The baron de Kalb smiled, and said he hoped it 
#v'oul(i be found so. 
*^No doubt of it at all sir," replied Marion. 
The baron Uien jiivitcii us to dine witli him, but 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION, fiS 

Muded^ smiling, that he hoped we had good military 
Riomachs that could relish and digest plain fare, 
which was all he could promise us, and perhaps 
hardly enough of that. 

On sitting doAvn to ta1)le, we found that his predic 
tion about the bill oT tare, was most unuelcomely 
true. Olu' dinner was just naif a side of a miserably 
poor hog,, as miserably cooked ; and in such small 
quantity, tha* before we were done there was nothing 
of it left but a ras'ner, f(M* i^-ood nuuDicr.'-!'' .sah^e. And 
as to bread, tnere was not even a hoc-cakc ! It is true, 
that, by way of substitute, xve had a trencher or two 
of sweet potaioes paraded. Our drink was admirably 
suited to the ainner; apj)le brandy with river water. 

God forbid that I should be unmindful of his fa- 
vours ! For well do I know that the least of them is 
much better than the best of us deserv^e. On the con- 
trary, I mention it rather as a compliment t^o his 
heavenly bounty, which is wont to spread our tables 
with so many dainties, as to cause even roast pigs 
and sweet potatoes to pass for a sorry meal. 

Soon as dinner was over, all of us who could pa- 
rade a segar or a pipe, began to comfort our olfacto- 
ries with a puff, not forgetting our brandy the while 
so that b}' the time we had got well entrenched ii» 
clouds of fragrant kite-foot, we were in admirable cue 
for a dish of chat. De Kalb led the way ; and, as 
nearly as I can recollect, in the following words. 

" Colonel Marion," said he, pressing the tobacco 
in his pipe at the same time," can you answer me one. 
question .'"' 

" Most gladly, general, and a thousand if I can!" 

" Thank you, colonel, but one will do." 

" Be pleased then, sir, to say on." 

" Well, colonel, can you tell me how old I am ?" 

"That's a tough question, general." 

" Tcwir/i, colonel ! pray how do you make that out?'' 

'Why, sir, there is a stranj^e Janujiry and May sort 



94 THE LIFE OF 

of contrast between your locks and your looks thai 
quite confuses me. By your locks you seem to be in 
tlie winter, by your looks in the summer of your days." 

'"'• Well but, colonel, striking the balance between 
li\e two, whereabouts do you take me to be ?" 

" Why, sir, in the spring and prime of life ; abou 
forty." 

" Good heavens, y^r^/ /" 

" Yes, sir, that's the mark ; ther« or thereabouts * 

"What! no more?" 

" No, sir, not a day more ; not an hour." 

" Upon honour ?" 

"Yes, sir, upon honour ; upon a soldier's honour." 

** Ha ! — ha ! — ha !— Well, colonel, I would not foi 
a thousand guineas that your riflemen shot as wide, 
off the mark as you g-iiess. I'he Biitish would not 
dread them as they do. Forty years old, indeed ! wh 
what will you say, colonel, when I tell you that 
have been two and fortv years a soldier." 

Here we all exclaimed, " Impossible, general ! im- 1 
possible." 

" I ask your pardon, gentlemen," replied he, " it 
is not at all impossible, but very certain. Very cer- 
tain that I have been two and forty years a soldier in 
the service of the king of France ;" ' 

" O wonderful ! two and forty years ! W«ll then, 
at that rate, and pray how old, general, may you take 
yourself to be ?" 

" Why, gentlemen," replied he, " man and boy, I 
am now about sixtv-three." 

" Good heaven ! sixty-three ! and yet such bloom, 
such flesh and blood !" 

" If you are so surprised, ge lOemen, at my look^ 
at sixty-three^ what would you have thought had you 
seen my father at eighty-seven." 

" Your father, general ! he cannot be alive yet 
sure." 

^^ Alive! yes, thank God, and alive like to he, I 



GKN. FRANCIS MARION. 95 

hdpe, 1 jr many a good year to come yet. Now, gen- 
tlemen, let me tell you a little story of my father. The 
very Christmas before I sailed for America, I went 
to see him. It was three hundred miles, at least, from 
Paris. On arriving at the liouse I found my dear old 
mother at her wheel, in her eighty-third year, mind 
gentlemen I ! spinning very gaily, while one of ?»er 
great grandaughters carded the wool and sung a 
hymn for her. Soon as the first transport of meeting 
was over, I eagerly asked for my father. ' Do not 
be uneasy, my son,' said she, 'your father is only 
gone to the woods with his three little great grand- 
children, to cut some fuel for the fire, and they will 
all be here pi;esently, I'll be bound !' And so it 
proved ; for in a very short time I heard them coming 
along. My father was the foremost, with his axe under 
his arm, and a stout billet on his shoulder ; and the 
children, each with his little load, staggering along, 
and prattling to my fatlier with all their might. l>e 
assured, gentlemen, that this was a most delicious 
moment to me. Thus after a long absence, to meet a 
beloved father, not only alive, but in health and dear 
domestic happiness above the lot of kings : also to see 
the two extremes of human life, youth and age, thus 
SAveetly meeting and mingling in that cordial love, 
which turns the cottage into a paradise," 

In telling this little story of his aged father and his 
young relatives, the general's fine countenance cauj,"ht 
Hn animation which perfectly charmed us all. 

The eyes of IVIurion sparkled with pleasure. " Ge- 
neral,'* said he, ""^ the picture which you have given 
us of your father, and his little great grandchildren, 
though shcrt, is extremely interesting and delightful. 
It confirms mc in an opinion which I have long en- 
tertained, which is, that there is more happiness in 
low life than in high life ; in a cottage than in a castle. 
Pray give us, general, your opinion of that matter." 

" Why," replied De Kalb, " this opinion cf vours, 
12 



S6 THE LIFE OF 

colonel, is not a novel one by any means. It was t\iu 
opinion of Rousseau, Fenelon, and of many other great 
men, and elegant writers. But notwithstanding such 
high authority, I mast still beg leave to be a dissenter. 
I have seen so many people happy and also unhappy, 
ooth in cottages and castles, that I cannot but con- 
clude, that happiness does not belong, peculiarly, to 
":id"ier condition, but depends on something very dif- 
/erent from, and inlinitely superior to both." 

We eagerly asked what he alluded to. 

" Why, gentlemen," replied he, " since you have 
been so ]m lite as to ask my opinion, I will as frankb' 
give it, tiiough I am afraid it will seem, very odd, e» 
pecially coming from a soldier. However, be that as 
it may, my opinion you hu\'e asked, and my opinion 
you shall have; which is, that religion is the only 
thing to make a man happy in cottages or courts." 

The }'ounf; f.fHcers began to stare. 

Gathering from their looks, that some of the com 
pany did not relish this kind of philosophy, he quick- 
ly thus resumed his speech. 

" Pardon ! gentlemen, I beg pardon ! I must not lie 
misimderstnod. By religion^ I don't mean priest- 
craft. 1 don't mean that superstitious grimace ; that 
rolling up of white eyes, and spreading of sanctified 
palms; with '' d'lsjign red faces and long' prayers^ and 
all the rest of that hol;^ trumpery., ■which, so far from 
making people cheerful, tends but to throw them into 
die dumps. But I mean, by religion^ that divine ef- 
fort of the soul, which rises and embraces the great 
author of its being with filial ardour., and walks and 
converses with him, as a dutiful child with his revered 
father. Now gentlemen, 1 would ask, all prejudice 
«/»«n\ what is there can so exalt the mind and gladden 
the heart, ai? this high friendship with heaven, and 
those immortal hopes that spring from religion ?" 

Here one of the company, half blushing, as palpa- 
bly convicted by the truth of the gener?.l's argument 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 9r 

martly called out — ^^ WcU but, general, don't you 
think \vc can do pretty well here in camp^ withom 
religion .<^^' 

" What !'' replied De Kalb," would you give it alt 
up to the priests V 

" Yes, to be sure I woiikl," said the young of^t^ev 
" for I am for every man's following his own trade, 
general. They are priests, and we are soldiers. So 
let them do all ihe prayings and we will do ail the 
Jightingr 

" \Vh/, as to the fighting part,"' i'ejoined De Kalb, 
' I have no objection to doing all that for the priests, 
especially as their profession does not allov/ them to 
fight for diemselves. But as to givin.p, them up all 
die devotion^ I confess I am not so liberal. No ! no ! 
gentlemen, charity begins at home : and I am not 
for parting with pleasure so easily. '' 

"Pleasure!" replied the young officer with a 
sneer. 

" Yes, ^lY^ plcasvre^'' returned De Kalb. "Accord- 
ing to my creed, sir, piety and pleasure are synony 
mous terms ; and 1 should just as soon think of living 
physically, without bread, as of living pleasantly, 
without religion. For what is religi'.^n, as I said be- 
fore, but habitual friendship winiGoD? And 
what can the heart conceive so delightful ? Or what 
can so gratify it in all its best and strongest desires 
For example, gentlemen, we are all fond of honour. 
I, for my part, am fond of the friendship of the king 
of France. You glory in the friendship of the great 
Washington. Then what must be the glory of him 
who is in friendship with God ? Again, gentlemen, 
we are all born to love, to admire, to adore. If a 
man have no love, he is gloomy, li he love a worth- 
less object, he is mortified. But if he love a truly 
worthy object, his face shines, his eyes sparkle, his 
voice becomes sweet, and his whole air expressive of 
cheerfulness. And as this happy feelijj^ must, br fM 



$8 THE LIFE OF 

nature of things, keep pace with the excellence of tKj 
object that is beloved, then what must be the cheerful- 
ness of him who loves the greatest, best, and loveliest 
of all beings, whose eternal perfections and goodness 
can for ever make him happier than heart can ask or 

think I 1 ,. 1 

" In a word, gentlemen, though I am a soldier, and 
soldiers you kno\v are seldom enthusiasts in this way, 
vet I verilv believe, as I said before, that a man of 
enlightened and fervent piety must be infinitely hap- 
oier in a cottage, than an irreligious emperor in hn 
pahice." 

In the height of this extraordinary conversation, 
^n officer stepped in and announced the arrival of 
general Gates. 

And here, as I have in this chapter given the reader 
what the jockics caW 3. firetty lon^ heat.l beg leave to 
order a halt and allow him a little time to breathe. 



CHAPTER XII. 

Gen. Gates — bo?i mot of British general Lee — hoxu an 
anrw ought not to march — De Kalb prophecies-^ 
chickens\ounted before they are hatched, alias, Ma- 
rion and the author sent by Gen. Gates to prevent 
the escape of Corn-wallis, 'before he had run— the 
British and American armies 7neet — Gates and his 
militia-men leave De Kalb in the lurch—his gallant 
behaviour, and glorious death. 

V\ HEN a poor fellow is going down hill, it is but 
too jommon, they say, for every body to give him a 
kick. 

" liCl dojs delight to bark and bite, 
" For heaven hath made them so." 

But, if I know myself aright, I can truly say, that 
toothing of this vile spirit suggests a syllable of wual 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 99 

I now write of the unfortunate general Gates. On 
the contrary'', I feel an ardent wish to speak hand- 
somely of him ; and in one view of him I can so speak. 
As a gentleman, few camps or courts ever produced 
his superior. But though a perfect Chesterfield at 
court, in camp he was certainly but a Paris. 'Tis 
true, at Saratoga he got his temples stuck round with 
laurels as thick as a May-day queen with gaudy flow- 
ers. And though the greater part of this was certain- 
ly the gallant workmanship of Arnold and Morgan, 
yet did it so hoist general Gates in the opinion of the 
nation,, that many of his dear friends, with a prudent 
regard, no doubt, to their own dearer selves, had the 
courage to bring him forward on the military turf 
and run him for the generalissimoship against the 
great Washington. But though they were not able to 
prosper him in this mad attempt, yet they so far suc- 
ceeded as to get him the command of the army of 
Caiolina, where his short and calamitous career soon 
caused every good patriot to thank God for continu- 
ing to his servant Washington the commLMd of th»- 
American armies. 

On his way from the northern states, genera 
Gates passed through Fredericksburg, where he fell 
in with general Charles Lee, who, in his frank man- 
ner, asked him where he was going. 

"Why, to take Cornwallis." 

" I am afraid," quoth Lee, " you will find him a 
tough piece of English beef." 

" Tough, sir," replied Gates ; ^' tough ! then begad 
I'll tender him. I'll make j&i/i^o of him, sir, in three 
hours after I set eyes upon him." 

"Aye! will you indeed?" returned Lee. "Well 
then send for me, and I will go and help you to «at 
him." 

Gates smiled; and bidding him adieu, ro«le off. 
L^e bawled after him,'* Take care, Gates \ take care! 



100 THE LIFE OF 

or your northern laurels will degenerate into south- 
ern willows." 

The truth is, though general Lee was extremely 
splenetic, other than which, such a miserable old ^«* 
chelor and infidel could hardly be, yet he certainly had 
a knack of telling people's fortunes. By virtue of this 
faculty, he presently discovered that general Gates 
was no Fabius; but on the contrary, too much inclin 
ed to the fatal rashness of hi.i unfortunate colleague. 

And so it turned out. For, from the moment he 
joined the army, he appeared to act like one who 
thought of nothing but to have it proclaimed of him 
in all the newspapers on the continent, that in so many 
)lays, hours, minutes, and seconds, he flew from Phi- 
ladelphia to South Carolina, .saxuy fought., and coii' 
fucrtd Cornwallis; and flew back again with the tro- 
phies of a second British army vanquished. Instead 
of moving on as old De Kalb had done, with a pru- 
dent regard to the health and refreshment of the 
troops, he, Jehu like, drove them on without regard 
to either. He would not take the lower road, as De 
Kalb earnestly advised, through a rich and plentiful 
country. Oh no ; that was too round about ; would 
too long have delayed his promised glory. 

Like an eagle shaking his bold pinions in the clouds 
of his pride, he must dash down at once upon his prey; 
and so, for a near cut, take us through a pine barren^ 
sufficient tohave starved a forlorn hope of caterpillars. 
I shall make no attempt to describe the sufferings of 
rhe army. For, admitting that I should not lack words, 
my reader would, I am sure, lack faith. Indeed, at 
this season, when the old crop was gone, and the new 
not quite come in, what had we to expect, especially 
in such a miserable country, where many a family goes 
without dinner, unless the father can knock down a 
squirrel in the v/oods, or his pale sickly boy pick up a 
terrapin in the swamps ? We did, indeed, sometimes 
full in with a little corn; but dien, thtt poor, skinny 



G'K.N. rUANClS MAitiON. 101 

iun-bunit women, with long uncombed tresses, and 
shrivelled breasts haniijing down, would run scream- 
ing to us, with tears in their eyes, declaring tliat if we 
took away their corn, they and their ciiildren must 
perish. Such times I never saw, and 1 pniy Gou I 
may never sec nor hear of again ; for, to this day, the 
hare thought of it depresses my spirits. But perhap 
I ought to ihink of it, and often too, that 1 may be tit 
more thankful to him who never, but in <hat one in 
stance, permitted me to suller, except in ih'uiLiii}^ of it 

There was one case in particular which I shall 
never forget. Almost spent with fatigue and fasting, 
we halted one evening near the house of a man, whose 
plantation bespoke him a tolerably good liver. He met 
us with a countenance strongly marked with tenor, 
and begged for God's sake we would not ruin him, for 
that he had a large family of children to maintain. 
We told him that we were soldiers fighting for the 
country, and that it would never do for ns to starve. 
Understanding ii'om this that we meant to forage upon 
him that night, he heaved a deep sigh, and turnmg 
jvbout, went ofl" without saying another word. 1 must 
confess I could not help feeling very sensibly for him, 
especially when we saw his little white-headed chil 
dren, in melancholy groups, peeping at us around the 
corners of the house. 

His young corn, which seemed to cover about fifty 
acres, was just in the primc^ roastuig ear .v/a/(?, and 
lie had also a couple of beautiful orchards of peach 
and apple trees, loaded v/ith young fruit. Scarcely 
were our tents pitched, ])efore the whole army, loot 
And horse, turned in to destrov. The trees were all 
threshed in a trice : after which the soldiers fell, like 
a herd of wild boars, upon the roasting ears, and the 
horses upon the blades and stalks, so that by morn- 
ing light there was no sign or symptom left that corn 
had ever grown there since the creiition of the world. 
VVbat became of the poor man an 1 hi& children God 



02 THE LIFE OF 

only knows, for by sunrise we were all under march 
ing orders again, bending for the south. 1 said all 
but I only meant all that were able. For numbers 
were knocked up every night by aj^^ues^ Jinxes^ .md 
other maladies, brought on by excessive fatigue and 
lack of food. 

I once before observed how highly die baron de 
Kalb had been pleased to think of Marion and mys':lf 
travelling so far to meet him. His liking for us grew 
so fast, that we had not been with him more than two 
days, before he appointed us his supernumerary aids- 
We were, of course, much in his company, and en 
trusted, I believe, with every thought of his bosom 
that related to the good of the army. He made no 
scruple to tell us how utterly unmilitary those pro- 
ceedings were; and frequently foretold the ruin that 
would ensue. 

" Here," said he, '' we are hurrying to attack an 
enemy, who, if they but knew our condition, would 
!ong for nothing so much as our arrival. JFe, two- 
thirds at least, raw militia ; tht.'i/^ all regulars. We, 
fatigued ; they, fresh. We, feeble and faint through 
long fasting; they, from high keeping, as strong and 
fierce as game cocks or butchers' bull dogs. It does 
not signify, gendemen; it is all over with us; our 
army is lost as sure as ever it comes into contact 
with the British. I have hinted these things mor«» 
than once to general Gates, but he is an oflicer wh-i 
will take iio courisel but his own." 

The truth is, genera) Gates was one of that crazy 
brained quality, to whom it is a misfortune to be 
fortunate. The least drmn of success would intoxi- 
cate and m.ake Kimjhol hardij. He could never bring 
himself to believe, as he used to say, that ^^ lord 
Cornwallis would dare to look him in the face " 

So confident, indeed, was he of victory, that on the 
morning before the fatal action, he ordered Marion 
djid myself to hasten on to Santee river, and destroy 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. loa 

eve>*y 4tmv^ boat^ or canoe^ that could assist an Eng- 
lishman In his flight to Charleston ! 

Immedkitely on receiving orders, we waited on 
the good old De Kalb to take leave ; and also to a« 
6ure him of our deep regret at parting with him. 

" It is with equal regret, my dear sirs," said he 
" that I part with you, because I feel a presentimenr, 
that we part to meet no more." 

We tcld him we hoped better things. 

" Oh mp !" replied he, " it is impossible. War is sk 
kind of game, and has itsnxed rules ^ whereby, when 
we are v/ell acquainted with them, we can pretty cor • 
rectly tell how the trial will go. T'o-morrow it seems, 
the die is to be cast, and in my judgment, without 
the least chance on our side. The militia Avill, I sup- 
pose, as usual, play the back-game^ that is, get out of 
the scrape as last as their legs can carry them. Bui. 
that, you knovr, won't do for me. I am an old soldier 
and cannot run : and I believe I have with me soma 
brave fellows that will stand by me to the last. So 
that, when you hear of our battle, you will probablv 
hear that your old friend De Kalb is at rest." 

I do not know that I was ever more affected in ray 
life. I looked at Marion and saw that his eyes were 
watery. De Kalb saw it too, and taking us by th# 
hand, with a firm tone, and animated look, said, " No * 
no ! gentlemen ; no emotions for me but those of con- 
gratulation. I am happy. To die is the irreversible 
decree of him who made us. Then what joy to be 
able to meet his decree v/ithout dismay ! This, thank 
God, is my case. The happiness of m,an is my v/ish 
that happiness I deem inconsistent with slavery. -^ 
And to avert sri great an evil from an innocent peo 
pie, I will gladly meet the British to-morrov/, at any 
odds whatever." 

As he spoke this, I saw a something in his eyes 
which at once demonstrated the divinity of virtue 
Rad the immortality of the soul 
K 



iOt THE LIFE OF 

With sorrowful hearts we then left him, and witn 
feelings which I shall never forget, while memory 
maintains her place in this my aged brain. 

" Oh my God !" said Marion, as we rode off, " what 
a difference does education make between man and 
man! Enlightened b\ her sacred ray, see here is the 
native of a distant country, come to fight for oui 
fiberty and happiness, while many of our own people, 
for lad of education^ are actually aiding the Brit'sh 
to heap chains and curses upon themselves and chih 
dren." 

It was on the morning of August the 15th, 1780, 
that we left the army in a good pasition near Ruge- 
ley's mills, twelve miles from Camden, where the 
enemy lay. About ten o'clock that night orders were 
given to march to surprise the enemy, who had at 
the same time commenced their march, to surprise- 
the Americans. To their mutual astonishment, the 
advance of the two armies met about two o'clock, and 
began to fire on each other. The firing, however, was 
soon discontinued by both parties, who appeared verv 
willing to leave the matter to be decided by daylight. 
A council of war was called; in which De Kalb ad- 
vised I hat the army should fail back to Rugeley's mills, 
und there, in a good position, wait to be attacked. — 
But Gates not only rejected this excellent counseL 
but threw out suspicions that it originated from fear. 
Upon ibis, the brave old De Kalb called to his ser- 
vant to t.tke his horse, and leaping on the ground., 
placed himself at the head of his command, on foot 
To this indecent expression of general Gates, he also 
retorted with considerable warmth, " Well, sir, a few 
hours perhaps will let us see who are the brave." 

It should be recorded for the benefit of our officers, 
many of whose laurels have been blasted by the fumes 
of brandy, that general Gates was rather too fond of 
his r.octurnal glass. 

• ', wonder where we «hall dine to-morrow ?" saiJ 



GEN. i^RANCIS MARION* lOf 

•»iic of his officers, as, in the dark, they sat on their 
ileepy horses, waiting for the day. 

*' Dine, sir!" replied the confident Gates, "why, 
jit Camden, sir, to he sure. Begad ! I would not give 
a pinch of snu5F, sir, to be insured a beef-steak to-mor 
row in Camden, and lord Cornwallis at my table." 

Presently day appeared ; and, as the dawning light 
increased, the frighted militia began to discover the 
woods reddening over like crimson with the long ex- 
tended lines of the British army, which soon, with 
rattling drums and thundering cannon, came rushing 
on to the charge. The militia, scarcely waiting to 
give them a distant fire, broke and fled in the utmost 
precipitation. Whereupon Gates clapped spurs t« 
his horse, and pushed hard after them, as he said,"tf 
bring the rascals hack." • But he took care never to 
bring himself back, nor indeed to stop until he had 
fairly reached Charlotte, eighty miles from the field 
of battle. I remember it was common to talk in those 
days, that he killed three hor.ses in his flight. 

Gates and the militia, composing two-thirds of the 
army, having thus shamefully taken themselves off, 
the brave old De Kalb, and his handful of continen- 
tals, were left alone to try the f oitune of the day. And 
never did men display a more determined valour! 
For though outnumbered more than txvo to one, they 
sustained the shock of the enemy's whole force, fof 
upwards of an hour. With equal fury the ranks-sweep- 
ing cannon and muskets were employed by both sides, 
until the contending legions were nearly mixed. Then 
quitting this slower mode of slaughter, with rage- 
blackened faces and fiery eyeballs, they plunge for- 
ward on each other, to the swifter vengeance of the 
bayonet. Far and wide the woods resound with the 
clang of steel, while the red reeking weapons, like 
stings of infernal serpents, are seen piercing the bo« 
dies of the combatants. Some, on receiving the fatal 
stabj let drop their useless arms, and with dying fixs 



tC6 THE LIFE OF 

gers clasped tlie hostile steel that's cold in their bo^A 
els. Others, faintly crying out, "O God I am slain!** 
sank pale, quivering to the ground, while the vital 
current gushed in hissing streams from their bursted 
bosoms. Oflicers, as well as men, now mingle in the 
uproarhig strife, and snatching the v/eapons of the 
slain, swell the horrid carnage. Glojying in his con- 
tinentals, the brave De Kalb towers before them, like 
a pillar of lire. His burning face is like a red star, 
guiding their destructive course ; his voice^ as the 
horn that kindles the young pack in the chase of bKood. 
•A British grenadier, of giant size, rushes on him with 
a fixed bayonet. De IT alb parries the furious blow, 
and plunges his sword in the Briton's breast; then, 
seizing his falling arms, he deals death around him 
on the crowding foe.' Loud rise the shouts of the 
Americans ; but louder still the shouts of the more 
numerous enemy. The battle burns anew along all 
the fierce conflicting line. There, the distant Com- 
Wallis pushes on his fresh regiments, like red clouds, 
bursting in thunder on the Americans ; and here^ con- 
densing his diminished legions, the brave De Kalb 
still maintains the unequal contest. But, alas ! what 
Can valour do against equal valour, aided by such fear- 
ful odds ? The sons of freedom bleed on ever)' side. 
With grief their gallant leader marks the fall of hia 
heroes; soon himself to fall. For, as with a face aU 
inflamed in the fight, he bends forward animating hii 
men, he receives eleven xuoiinds I Fainting with loss 
of blood, he falls to the ground. Several brave men^ 
Britons and Americans, were killed over him, as they 
furiously strove to destroy or to defend. In the midst 
of the clashing bayonets, his only surviving aid, Men- 
sier du Buyson, ran to him, ami stretching his arms 
over the fallen hero, called out, " Save the baron de 
K'\li»! Save the baron de Kalb !'' The British officers 
interposed, and prevented his immediate destruction. 
It has been said that lord Coruwaliis was so stri^*:li 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. lOT 

with the i)ravcry of De Kalb, that he generously au- 
perintcnded while his wounds v/ere dressed, by Ki» 
own surgeons. It has also been said, that he appoint 
ed him to be bui'.ed with the honours of war. British 
officers have been often known to do such noble 
deeds, but that lord Cornwallis was capable of acting 
80 honourably, is doubtful. 

De Kail) died as he had lived, the unconquercd 
friend of liberty. For, being kindly condoled with 
by a British olFicer for his misfortune^ he replied, " I 
thank you, sir, for your generous sympathy ; but I die 
the death I always prayed for; the death of a soldier 
fighting for the rights of man.'' 

His last moments were spent in dictating a letter 
to a friend concerning his continentals, of whom he 
said, he " had no words that could sufficiently expresf 
his love, and his admiration of their valour." He sur. 
vived the action but a few hours, and was buried in 
the plains of Camden, near which his last battle was 
fought. 

When the great Washington, many years after- 
wards, came on a visit to Camden, he eagerly in- 
quired for the grave of De Kalb. It was shown to 
him. After looking on it a while, v> ith a countenance 
marked v/ith thought, he breathed a deep sigh, and 
exclaimed — " So, there lies the brave De Kail) ; the 
generous stranger, who came from a di.stant land, to 
fight our battles, and to water, with his blood, the 
tree of our lil)erty. Would to God he had lived to 
share with us its fruits !" 

Congress ordered him a monument. But the friend 
of St. Tammany still sleeps '* witliout his fame." I 
have seen the place of his rest. It was the lowest 
spot of the plain. No sculpture.! warrior mourned 
at his low-laid head ; no cypres? decked his A^r/. But 
the tall corn stood in darkening -anKS around him, 
and seemed to shake their greer ,ciiv«a w*^ i"V over 
liis narrow dwelliujii. 
K 'Z 



108 THE LIFE OF 

But the roar of his hvittle is not yet quite passed 
away, nor his ghastly wounds forjjotten. The citizens 
of Camden have lately enclosed his grave, and placed 
on it a handsome marble, v/ith an epitaph gratefully 
descriptive of hi-^ virtues and si r vices, that the 
people of future days may, like V\ ashington, heave 
the sigh when they read of " the generous strangei 
who came from a distant land to fight their battles* 
-and to water, with his blood, the tree of their liber- 
ties." 

Fair Camden*s plains his glorious dust ii^.hume. 
Where annual Ceres shades her hwo's tomb. 



CHAPTER Kill. 

Marion and the author very biisij in dtstroying' the 
rice^makers^ boats on Santee— first ^ot the neivs of 
the defeat cf our armij^ and death of the brave Di 
Kalb — Marion addresses his followers — their ^at 
lant reply. 

MARION and myself, as yet ip;r*orant of the fate 
of the army, were on the waters of the Santee, very 
busily executing our boat-burning orders. Not con- 
tent with destroying the common scows and flats of 
tlie ferries, we went on to SAveep the river of every 
skiir and canoe that we could lay hands on ; nay, had 
the harmless wonkopkins been able to feny an Eng- 
lishman over the river, we should certainly have de 
clared war and hurled our firebrands among them, 

The reader may be sure we gained no gOv)d will by 
our zeal in this affair ; fu- *t was a serious tKhig to the? 
planters: and their wrar waxed excecd'n.v>.]y ho^ 
against us. Among that fi. t-t of boats and liars that 
perished by our firebrands or r.atchets. tn^re were two * 
that beir»nged to my e>icellem eld uncle colonel E. 
Horry. Ibe o?<l g;cnt3*.*man c^uld hardly believe h>5 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION fQ9 

wrg;roes, when they tokl him that we were destroying 
his hoats. However, to be satisfied of the matter, he 
mounted his horse, and galloped down to the river to 
see. We had completely done for his scow, and were 
just giving the finishing blows to his boat as he hove 
in sight ; whereupon, clapping whip and spur to his 
horse, he came on as hard as he could drive. Soon as 
he was within hailing distance of an ordinary speak- 
ing trumpet, he began to bawi — "Hold! hold! for 
God's sake hold !^' 

Then dashing up, with cheeks red as fire coals, and 
his mouth all in aiuther, he roared out, ^' Why, what? 
what ? what are vou about here ?'' 

" We are only trying to kidnap the British, uncle," 
said I. 

^* Kidnap the d — l," he replied. 

Then looking around, and seeing how completely 
we had snivered his line new boat and scow, he ripped 
out again — '' Well ! licre is a pretty spot of work ! a 
pretty spot of work ! A branding new scow and boat, 
that cost me, only last spring, thi-ee hundred dollars' 
every farthing of it : and here now all cut to smash \ 
rumed ! not worth a chew of tobacco ! why ! did mor 
tal flesh ever see the like of this' Breaking up oui 
boats! why, how are we to harve-ji: our rice?" 

'" Uncle," said I, ''you had better think less of har 
vesting your rice, and more of catching the musk 
rats," meaning the British. 

Here, darting at ir,e an eve of inexpressible asto 
nishment and rage, he exclaimed — '■*' Wb.y, certainly 
the d — 1 is in the young man ! catch the British r 
vv hy, have you not heard that the British are carrying 
every thing before them; have broke up our army; 
cut the regulars to pieces; scattered the militia; and 
chased general Gates to Jericho, and to the d — 1 for 
what I care ?" 

*' God forbid !" said Marion. 

"Nay, that is past praying for," replied my uncle; 



no THE LIFE OF 

" and if you had any interest in heaven, you oughl 
jjo have made it sooner. It is too late now.'* 

" Great God!" returned Marion ; " and so our ar- 
my is lost!" 

" Yes," continued my uncle ; " lost, as sure as a 
gun: and that is not all ; for De Kalb is killed; Sump- 
ter surprised and cut to pieces ; and Charleston illu- 
minated every night for joy." 

We could neither of us utter a word. 

Presently my uncle, casting a searching eye around 
jn our men, about thirty in number, asked where oui 
*voops were. 

I told him those were all the troops we had. 

I thought the good old gentleman would have gon« 
into fits. He rolled up his eyes to heaven; smacked 
his hands together, and bringing them by a sudden 
jerk to his breast, with a shrill whistle exclaimed, 
" Mad ! — mad ! — the young fellow is as mad as a 
March hare — Well, I'll tell you what, nephew of mine, 
you may go about on the river, chopping the planters' 
boats at this rate, but I would not be in your coat, my 
lad, for your jacket, though it was stiff with gold." 

I asked him what he meant by that ? 

" Why, I mean," replied he, " that if you are not, 
all of you, knocked on the head in three hours, it will 
be a wonder." 

" Aye! what makes you think so, uncle?*' said L 

He answered ; *^ You know my old waiting man, 
Tom, don't you ?" 

"To be sure I do," said I ; " I have 'known Tom 
ever since I was a boy, and should be confounded sor- 
ry to hear Tom prophesy any harm of me ; for I have 
always taken him to be a verv true man of his v/ord." 

"Yes, I'll warrant him," said my uncle; "* foi 
though Tom is a negro, and as black as old Nkk, yev 
I would as soon take Tom's word as that of any whitf; 
man in Carolina. Weil, Tom, you know, has a wife 

at Mr. 's, as rank a tory as we have hereabouts. 

On coming Wine this morning, he shook liia nead and 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. Ill 

ibid he was mighty 'fraid you and Col. Marion were 
in a bad box; for, tliat he got it from one of the black 
waiters in the house, who overheard the talk, that 
there are three companies of tories now moulding 
the'r buUeto, and making ready to cut you off." 

I looked at Marion and saw battle in his face. 

BIy uncle was about to inv^ite us to the house ; but 
Marion interrupted him hy sayiiig, "This is no time 
to think of visiting;" and turning to his trumpeter, 
ordered him to wind his licrn, which was instantly 
done. Th?,n placing himself at our head, he dashed 
off at a charging lope ; with equal speed we followed 
and soon lost sight of my uncle Horry. 

On reaching the woods, Marion ordered the troop 
to halt and form ; when, v/ith his usual modesty, he 
thus addressed us: 

" Weil, gentif men, you see our situation ! widely 
different from what it once was. Yes, once we were 
a happy people ! Liberty shone upon our land, bright 
as the sun that gilds yon fields ; v/hile we and our 
fathers rejoiced in its lovely beams, gay as the birds 
that enliven our forests. But, alas ! those golden days 
are gone, and the cloud of war nov/ hangs dark and 
lowering over our heads. Our once peaceful land is 
now filled with uproar and death. Foreign ruffians, 
braving us up to our very firesides and altars, leave 
us no alternative but slavery or death. Two gallant 
armies have been marched to our assistance ; but, for 
lack of competent commanders, both have been lost. 
That under general Lincoln, after having been duped 
and butchered at Savannah, was at last completely 
trapped at Charleston. And that under general Gates, 
after having been imprudently overmarched, is now 
cut up at Camden. Thus are all our hopes from the 
north entirely at an end ; and poor Carolina is left to 
shift for herself. A sad shift indeed, when not one 
in a thousand of her ov/n children will rise to take her 
part ; but, on the contrary, are madly taking part with 
the enemy against her. And now, my countrymen, X 



a« THE LIFE OF 

«yant to know your minds. As to my own, that has 
long been made up. I consider my life as but a mo- 
ment. But I also consider, that to fill that moment 
with dutif^ is my all. To guard my innocent country 
against the evils of slavery, seems now my greatest 
duty ; and, therefore, I am determined, that while 1 
live, she ^^bi!? never be enslaved. She maif come tc 
that wretched state for what I knovv, but my eye? 
shall never behold it. Never shall she clank hei 
chains in my cars, and pointing to the ignominious 
badge, exclaim, " it was your cowardice thai 

BROUGHT ME TO THIS." 

In answer to this v/e unanimously assured him, that 
those sewtiments and resolutions were exactly our 
own ; and that we were steadfastly determined to die 
with him, or conquer for our country. 

" Well then, my brave friends,*' said he, ^' draw 
your swords ! Now for a circle, emblematical of out 
eternal union I and pointing your blades to heaven, 
the bright throne of Him who made us free, swear 
you will never be slaves of Britain." 

Which was all most devoutly done. 

Soon as this patriotic rite was performed, we all dis- 
mounted ; and taking our seats on the trunks of two 
fallen pines that lay conveniently parallel, we made 
our simple dinner of cold roots ; and for our beverage 
drank of the lucid stream that softly murmured by. 

The reader will please to keep in mind, that our 
troops consisted of but thirty mounted militia; chief- 
y gentlemen volunteers, armed with muskets and 
swords, but almost without powder and ball. How 
Marion came to be at the head of this littly party, \l 
may be amusing to the reader to hear. 

Some short time before this date, 1779 — SO, when 
the war began to rage in South Carolina, a British 
oaptain by the name of ArdeisofF came up to George- 
town in an armed vessel, and filled the country with 
printed proclamations from lord Cornwallis, calling 
on the GOOD people of South Carolina to submit ax&d 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. Jt 

fake royal protections ! ! Numbers of the ignorant and 
pusillanimous sort closed with the offer. But the no- 
bler ones of the district, (Williamsburgh) having no 
notion of selling their liberties for a pig" in a poke^ 
called a caucus of their own, from whom they select- 
ed captain John James, and sent him down to master 
captain ArdeisoiT, to know what he would be at This 
cap.tain James, by birth an Irishman, had rendered 
himself so popular in the district, that he was made a 
militia captain under the royal government. But in 
'75, soon as he found that the ministry were deter- 
mined to tax the Americans, without allowing then 
the common British right of representaUon^ he brave* 
ly threw up his commission, declaring that he would 
never serve a tyrant. Such was the gentleman 
chosen by the aforesaid liberty caucus, to go on the 
embassy before mentioned. In the garb of a pla-ia 
planter, James presented himself before the haughty 
captain Ardeisolf, and politely asked " on what terms 
himself and friends must submit ?" 

" What terms, sir !" replied the angry Briton, 
" what term.s ! why, no other terms, you may be sure, 
than unconditional submission.*' 

" Well but, sir,*' answered James, very calmly, 
" are we not to be allowed to stay at home in peace 
Bnd quiet V 

*' In peace and quiet, indeed !" replied Ardeisof^ 
with a sarcastic grin ; " a pretty story, truly ! Stay 
at home in peace and quiet, heh ? No, no, sir, you 
have all rebelled against your king; and if treated as 
you deserve, would now be dancing like dogs at the 
arms of the gallows. But his majesty is merciful, sir; 
and now that he has graciously pardoned you, he ex- 
pects you will immediately take up arms and turn 
out in support of his cause." 

" You are very candid, sir," said James ; " and now 
I hope you will not be displeased with me for being 
equally plain. Permit me, tlien, sir, to tell you that 



tU THE LIFE OF 

such terms will never go down with the gectlefaifiii 
whom I have the honour to represent." 

*' The gentlemen you have the honour to represecLt| 
you d — n — d rebel !" 

Vesuvius! iEtna! and Strumbolo ! whataie^fXt 
fires and flames, compared with these that raged ia 
the bosom of James, when he heard himself called a 
d — n — d rebel ! 

Instantly springing up, with eyes of lightning, he 
snatched up his chair, and, regardless of consequences, 
laid the audacious Ardeisoff sprawling on the floor; 
then flying to his horse, he mounted and made his 
escape. Learning from him, at his return, what they 
had to understand by British protections^ his gallant 
constituents came at once to the resolution to artn and 
fight till death, rather than hold life on such ignomini- 
ous terms. Immediately the whole force of the district, 
about two hundred, able to bear arms, were mustered 
and placed under captains William M'Coltery, John 
M^Cawley, Henry Mowizon, and our brave captain 
James, who was appointed major and captain general 
of the whole. Feeling that distrust in themselves 
which is common with raw troops, and learn mg that 
the northern army was just entering South Carolina, 
they despatched a messenger to general Gates, to re- 
quest that he would send them an officer who had seen 
service. Governor Rutledge, who happened at that 
time to be in camp, advised general Gates by all means 
to send Marion. Marion was accordingly sent ; but 
with orders, as we have seen, to destrov, on his route, 
all the boats on the Santee river, lest lord Cornwallis 
should make his escape. At the time of leaving ge- 
neral Gates, Marion had but ten men with him ; but 
on reaching Santee, we were joined by major John 
James, with about twenty gallant gentlemen volua* 
teers, making his whole force about thirty. 

A slender force to ])e sure, to oppose to the tremen 
dous powers which INIarion had to encounter ! But, 
**the Loixi is king, the victory is his!" and when he 



Pacre 114, 




Captam Txmcs, knocking dowji Caplmi Arddsoff 
7joiik c Chair. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. HIS 

pleasei J\ j^ivc it t(> an oppressed people, he can make 
the few lAtul feeble overcome the many and mighty- 
As the brave major Jarnes laay perhaps be men- 
tioned no more in this history, I must gratify the 
r.ader by informing him, that the noble major los( 
nothing by his attachment to dat)^ and the rights (J 
man. He lived to see Cornwallis, Tarletcu, and Raw« 
don, laid as low as the insolent Ardeisoff ; and after 
enjoying many years of sweet repose, under the plea- 
sant shade of peace and plenty, he sunk gently to 
rest. But though now fallen asleep, he still lives in 
his country's gratitude, and in the virtues of his son, 
who fills one of the highest places in the judiciary of 
bis native state. 



CHAPTER XIV. 



Carolina apparently lost — Marion almost alone, keep, 
the field — beg'ins to figure — surprises a strong Bri- 
tish parti/ at Nelson'' s old field — scourges x.he tories 
at Black Mingo — again smites them hip erd thigh 
on Pedee. 

THK historv of the American revolution is a ftis- 
tory of miracles, all bearing, like sunbeams, on thL* 
heavenly /«/: "America shall be free !" 

Some oi our chimney-corner philosophers can 
hardly believe, when they read of Sampson making 
such a smash among the Philistines with the jaw- 
bone of an ass. Then how wuU they believe what I 
am going to tell them of Marion? How will they be- 
lieve that, at a time when the British had completely 
overrun South Carolina ; their head nuarters at 
Charleston ; a victorious army at Camden ; strong 
garrisons at Georgetown and Jacksonborough, with 
swarms of thievish and bloody minded tories, filling 
up all between ; and the spirits of the poor whigs so 
completelv cowed; that they w«re fairly knocked un 



U6 THE LIFE OF 

dcr to the civil and military yoke of the Briti«l<< 
who, I ask »gain, will believe, that in this desperate 
state of things, one little, swarth)'', French-phizzed 
Carolinian, with only thirty of his ragged country- 
men, issuing out of the swamps, should have dared 
to turn his horse's head towards tliis all conquering 
foe ? 

Well, Marion was that man. He it was, who, with 
his feeble force, dared to dash up at once to Nelson's 
ferry, on the great war path between the British ar- 
mies at Charleston and Camden. 

" Now, my gallant friends,'' yaid he, at sight of the 
road, and with a face burning for battle, **■ now look 
sharp ! here are the British wagon tracks, with the 
sand still falling in ! and here are the steps of their 
troops passing and repassing. We shall not long be 
idle here I" 

And so it turned out. For scarcely had we reached 
our hiding place in the swamp, before in came our 
scouts at half speed, stating that a British guard, with 
a world of American prisoners, were on their march 
for Charleston. 

" How many prisoners do you suppose there were?' 
said Marion. 

•* Near two hundred," replied the scouts. 

" And what do you imagine was the number of the 
British guard?" 

*' Why, sir, we counted about ninety." 

"Ninety!" said Marion with a smile; "ninety! Well, 
that will do. And now, gentlemen, if you will only 
stand by me, I've a good hope that we thirty will have 
those ninety by to-morrow's sunrise." 

We told hifia to lead on, for that we were resolved to 
die by his side. 

Soon as the dusky night came on, we went down to 
the ferry, and passing for a party of good loyalists, 
we casrily go' set over. The enemy, with their prison- 
ers, having just eilected the passage of <he river as 
the sun went down lialted at the tirst tavern gene 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. iU 

'alh' ««ft!^cd *' the Blue House," where the officers or 
Jercfft suopcr. In front of the building, was a large 
arbour., whcyein the topers were wont to sit, and spend 
the jocund night away in songs and gleeful draughts 
of ajDple brandy grog. In this arbour, flushed with 
their late success, sat the British guard ; and tickler 
after tickler swilling, roared it away to the tune of 
'* Britannia strike home :" till overcome with fatigue, 
and the opiate juice, down they sunk, deliciously 
bcastified, to the ground. 

Just as the cock had winded his last horn for day 
we approached the house in perfect concealment, be- 
hind a string of fence, within a few yards of it. But 
in spite of all our address, we could not elFect a com- 
plete surprisal of them. Their sentinels took the 
alarm, and firing their pieces, fled into the yard. Swift 
as lightning we entered with them, and seizing their 
muskets, which were all stacked near the gate, we 
made prisoners of the whole party, without having 
been obliged to kill more than three of them. 

Had Washington and his whole army been upon 
the survivors, they could hardly have roared out 
couder for quarter. After securing their arms, Ma- 
rion called for their captain ; but he was not to be 
found, high nor low, among the living or dead. 
However, after a hot search, he was found up the 
chimney ! He begged very hard that we would not 
let his men know where he had concealed himself 
Nothing could equal the mortification of the British, 
when they came to sec what a handful of militia-men 
had taken them, nnd recovered all their prisoners. 

Marion was at first in high hopes, that the Ameri- 
can regulars, whom hehad so gallantly rescued, would, 
to a man, have joined his arms, and fought hard to 
avenge their late defeat. But equally to hh surprise 
and their ozun disgrace, not one of them could be pre- 
vailed on to shoulder a musket ! " Wheie is the use," 
said they, " of fighting now, when all is lost ?" 

Tlii« was the general impression. And indeed^ 
L2 



118 THE LIFE OF 

except these unconquerable spirits, IMarion and 
Sumpter, with a few others of the same heroic stamp, 
who kept the field, Carolina was no better than a 
British province. 

In our late attack on the enemy, we had but four 
rounds of powder and ball ; and not a single sword 
that deserved the name. But Marion soon remedied 
that defect. He bought up all the old saw blades 
from the mills, and gave them to the smiths, who 
presently manufactured for us a parcel of substantial 
broadswords, sufficient, as I have often seen, to kill 
a man at a single blow. 

From our prisoners in the late action, we got com- 
pletely armed ; a couple of English muskets, with 
bayonets and cartouch-boxes, to each of us, with 
which we retreated into Britton's Neck. 

We had not been there above twenty-four hours 
before the news was brought us by a triisti/ friend^ 
that the tories, on Pedee, were mustering, in force, 
under a captain Barfield. This, as we learnt after- 
wards, was one of the companies that my uncle's old 
coachman had been so troubled abcut. We were 
quickly on horseback; and after a brisk ride ot forty 
miles, came upon their encampment, at three o'clock 
in the morning. Their surprise was so complete, that 
they did not fire a single shot ! Of forty-nine men, 
who composed their company, we killed and took 
about thirty. The arms, ammunition, and horses, of 
the whole party, fell into our hands, with which we 
returned to Britton's Neck, without the loss of a 
man. 

The rumour of these two exploits soon reached the 
British and their friendf; the tories, who presently 
despatched three stout r '»mpanies to attack us. Two 
of the parties were British ; one of them commanded 
by major Weymies, of house-burning memory. The 
third party v/ere altogether toric?. We fled before 
them towards North Carolina. Supposing they had 
entirely scouted us, they gave over the chase, and r 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 119 

treated for their respective stations ; the British to 
Georgetown, and the tories to Black Mingo. Learn- 
ing this, from the tiwift mounted scouts whom he al- 
ways kept close hanging upon their march, Marion 
ordered us to face about, and dog them to their en- 
campment, which we attacked with great fury. Our 
fire commenced on them at but a short distance, and 
with great effect ; but outnumbering us, at least two 
to one, they stood their ground and fought despe- 
rately. But losing their commander, and being hard 
pressed, they at length gave way, and fied in the ut- 
most precipitation, leaving upwards of two-thirds of 
their number, killed and wounded, on the ground. — 
The surprise and destruction of the tories would 
have been complete, had it not been for the alarm 
given by our horses' feet in passing Black Mingo 
bridge, near which they were encamped. Marion 
never afterwards suffered us to cross a bridge in the 
night, until we had first spread our blankets on it, to 
prevent noise. 

This third exploit of Marion rendered his name 
very dear to the poor ivhigs^ but utterly abominable 
to the enemy, particularly the tories, who were so 
terrified at this last handling, that, on their retreat, 
they would not halt a moment at Georgetown, 
though twenty miles from the field of battle ; but 
continued their flight, not thinking themselves safe, 
until they had got Sanree river lietween him and 
them. 

These three spirited charges, having cost us a great 
deal of rapid marching and fatigue, Marion said he 
w^ould give us " a little rcst^ So he led us down into 
VVaccamaw, where he knew we had some excellent 
friends ; among whom were the Hugers and Trapiers, 
find Alstons ; fine fellows! rich as Jews, and hearty 
as we could wish : indeed the wealdiy captain, now 
colonel William Alston, was one of Marion's aids. 

These grejit people all received us as though we 
had been their "brothers, threw open the gates of thei(r 



ISO THE LIFE OF 

elegant yards for our cavalry, hurried \i3 u^ then 
princely steps; and, notwithstandinj^ cur di»t and 
rags, ushered us into their grand saloons and dining 
rooms, where the famous mahogany sideboards were 
quickly covered with pitchers of old amb\ir coloured 
brandy, and sugar dishes o^ double rrfined^ with honey, 
far drams and juleps. Our horses were up to the 
eyes in corn and sweet-scented fodder ; while, as to 
ourselves, nothing that air, land, or water could fur- 
nish, was good enough for us. Fish, ilesh, and fowl, 
all of the fatte.H and finest^ and sweetly graced with 
the smiles of the great ladies, were spread before us, 
as though we had been kings : while Congress and 
Washington went round in sparkling bumpers, from 
old demijohns that had not left the garret for many a 
year. 

This was feasting indeed ! It was a feasting of the 
sou. as well as of the sense. To have drawn the 
sword for liberty and dear country's sake, was, of 
Itself, no mean reward to honest republicans ; but, 
beside that, to be so honoured and caressed, by thi 
great ones of the land, was like throwing the zone of 
Venus over the waist of Minerva, or like crowning 
profit with pleasure, and duty with delight. 

In consequence of the three fortunate blows "vvhich 
he had lately struck, Marion, as before observed, was 
getting the enviable honour to be looked up to as the 
raHijrig- point of the poor whigs ; insomuch, that al- 
though afraid as mice to stir themselves, yet, if they 
found out that the tories and British were any where 
Forming encampments about r.he country, they would 
rtiount their boys and push tb.em off to Marion to let 
him know. Here I must give the reader an instance 
wn the spot. 

We had just got ourselves well braced up again, by 

rest and high feeding, among the noble whigs of 

Waccamnvr, when a likely young fellow at half speed 

drove up one morning to the house, and asked for 

eneral Marion. 



GEN FRANCIS MARION. 121 

Marion \vcnt to the door. 

" Well, my son, \vh:it do yo\i >A'ant with me ?" 
"Why, sir Koneral,''' replied the yoalh, "daddy 
sent me down to let you kuov/, lis how there is to bcf 
a mighty gathering of the tories, in our parts, to-mor- 
row night." 

*• Aye indeed ! and pray whereabouts, my son, may 
your parts be ?'' 

" Pleigh, sir general I don't you know where oui 
parts is ? I thought every body knowed where daddy 
lives." 

" No, my son, I don't ; but, I've a notion he lives 
somewhere on Pedee ; ])erhaps a good way up." 

" Yes, by jing, does he live a good way up ! a mat- 
ter of seventy miles ; clean away up there, up on Little 
Pedee." 

" Very well, my son, I tliank your daddy, and you 
too, for letting me know it. And, I believe, I must 
try to meet the tories there." 

" O la, sir general, trif to meet 'em indeed! yes, to 
be sure ! dear me, sirs, hearts alive, that you must, sir 
jreneral ! for daddy says, as how, he is quite sartin, if 
you'll be there to-morrow night, you may make a pro- 
per smash among the tories ; for they'll be there thick 
and threefold. I'hey have heard, so they say, of your 
doin^Sy and are going to hold this great meeting, on 
purpose to come ail the way down here after ?/c«." 
" After me ?" 

" Yes, indeed are they, sir general ! and you had 
better keep a sharp look out, I tell you now ; for thev 
have just been down to the British, there at George- 
tcwn, and brought up a matter of two wagon loads of 
guns ; great big English muskets ! I can turn my 
thumb in them easv encurifh ! And, besides them 
plaguy guns, they have got a tanial nation sig-ht of 
pistols ! and bagonets ! and swords ! and saddles ' 
and bridles ! and the dear knov/s what else besides ! 
so they are in a mighty good fix, you may depend, 
«r general." 



122 THE LIFE OF 

•* Well, perhaps you and I may have some of theh 
fine things to-morrow night. What say you to it, my 
son r 

" Bv jing, I should like it proper well ! But, to be 
sure, now, sir general, you look iikt; a mighty small 
man to tight them great big tories there, on I^dee. 
But daddy says as how the heart is all : and he «ays, 
too, that though \'ou are but a little man, you h?>ve a 
monstrous great heart." 

Marion smiled, and went out among his men, to 
whom he related the bov's errand ; and desired them 
to question him, so that there might be no trick m the 
matter. But every scruple of that sort was quickly 
removed ; for several of our party were well acquaint- 
ed with the lad's father, and knew him to be an ex- 
cellent whig. 

Having put our firearms in prime order for an at- 
tack, Ave mounted ; and giving our friends three 
cheers, dashed off, just as the broad-faced moon 
arose ; and by daybreak next morning, had gained a 
very convenient swamp, within len miles of the grand 
tory rendezvous. To avoid giving alarm, wc struck 
into the swamp, and there, man and horse, lay snug 
all day. About eleven o'clock, Marion sent ®ut a 
couple of nimble-footed young men, to conceal them- 
selves near the main ruad, and take good heed to 
Avliat was going on. In the evening they returned 
and brought word, that the road had been constantly 
alive with horsemen, tories they supposed, armed 
with new guns, and all moving on verv gaily towards 
the place the lad had told us of. Soon as it was 
dark, we mounted, and took the track at a sweeping 
gallop, which, by early supper time, brought us in 
sight of their fires. Then leaving our horses under 
a small guard, we advanced quite near them, in the 
dark without being disc'^eTc' • for so little thouo-ht 
had they of Mc/ion, that they h'.id not placed a single 
sentinel : but were, all hands, gathered about the 
tire: some eookinj^, »om3 fiddling and dancicg, aiK> 



GEN. FKANCIS MARION. 123 

eome playing cards, as wc could hear them every 
now and then bawling out, " llivzza^ at him ai^a'tn 
damme! aije, t/nif's the (iainhj I i^hj tricky hrgdii T'' 

Poor wretches, little did they think how near the 
fates wertt grinninj;- around ihttni. 

Observing* that they had three largi^ fires, Marion 
divided our little ]nirty of sixty men into three com- 
panies, each opposite to a fire, then bidding us to lake 
aim, with his pistol he gave tin* sij';nal for a general 
discharge. In a moment the woods were \\\\ in a bla/.e, 
as by a ilash of lightning, accompanied l)y a tremen- 
dous da]) of tliunder. Down tumbled the dead ; oiF 
bolted the living; loud screamed tlie wounded ; while 
far anrl wide, all over the woods, nothing was to be 
heard but the running of tories, and the snorting of 
wild bounding horses, snapping the saplings. Such a 
tragi-comedy was hardly ever seen. On running up 
to their fires, we foimd we had killed twnnty-three, 
and badly wounded as many more ; thirteen we made 
prisoners ; jioor fellows who had not been gra'/,(.;d by 
a bullet, but were so frightened that they could not 
budge a peg. We got eighty-four stand of arms, chiefly 
English nuiskets and bavonets, one hundred horses, 
with new saddles and bridles, :dl Knglish too, with a 
good deal of ammunition and baggage. The conster- 
nation of the tories was so great that they never 
dreamt of carrying off any thing. Even their fiddles 
and fiddle bows, and ])laying cards, were all left 
strewed around their fires. One of the ^>;:»mblers, (it 
is a .s'triotis truth^ tliough shot dead, still held tiie 
cai'ds hard griped in his hands. Led l\v curiosity to 
nspect this strange sight, a dead g'(imhlt')\ we found 
that the cards which he held were ace, deuce, and 
jack. Clul)s were trumps. Molding high, low, jack, 
and the game, in his own hand, he seemed to be in a 
lair way to do well ; but Marion came down upon 
him with a trump that spoiled his sport, and non 
iuited him for ever. 

But the most comfortable sight of all, wa» the fire 



23(1 THE LIFE OF 

supper which the tories had cooked ! three fat roasted 
pigs, and six turkeys, with piles of nice journey-cakes. 
Tis true, the dead bodies hiy very thick round the 
fires: but having rode seventy miles, and eating no- 
thing since the night before, vre were too keen set to 
Aink of standing on trifles ; so fell upon the poor 
tories' provisions, and made the heartiest supper i» 
the world. And, to crown all, we found among the 
spoil, upwards of half a barrel of fine old peach 
brandy. 

" Ah, this brand}'!" said Marion, '' was the worst 
foe these poor rogues ever had. But FU take care it 
shall be no foe to us." So, after ordering half a pint 
to each man, he had the balance put under guard. 
And I must observe, by way of justice to my honour- 
ed friend, that success never seemed to elate him; 
nor did ever he lose sight of safety in the blaze of 
victory. For instantly after the defeat, our guns were 
all loaded and our sentinels set, as ii an enemy had 
been in force in the neighbourhood. 



CHAPTER X\ 

The zuhig-s in hig-h spirits on account of our successes — . 
an exf)res:'i from Governor Rutledgc — promotioJiS'-' 
British and tories in PTeat rvrut/i — sketch of their 
treatment oj tne patriots. 

THE nev/s of this fourth overthrow of the enemy, 
was soon spread far and wide among both our friends 
and foes ; producing every where the liveliest emo- 
tions of joy or sorrow, according as the hearers hap- 
pened to be well or ill affected towards us. The im- 
pression which it made on our honoured execiuivc, 
was sweeter to our thoughts than honey or the honey- 
comb. For on the fifth day after our last flagellation 
of the tories, in came an express from governor Rut- 
ledge, with a commission of brigadier geneml for Ma- 



GEN. FRANCIS^ MARION. t2J 

» ion, and a full coloneVs commission for me. Having 
always looked up to my country as to a beloved mo- 
ther,' whose liberty and prosperity were inseparably 
connected with my own, it is no wonder that I should 
have been so deligh-ted at hearmg her say, by her fa- 
vourite son, governor Rutledge, th;xt, reposing- especial 
trust in mif couruge^ conduct^ and attention to her in- 
terestSy she had appointed me a colonel in her armies, 
kz. &c. 

Scarcely had I perused my commission, before Ma- 
rion reached me his ; and with a smile, desired me to 
read it. Soon as I came to his new title, " brigadiei 
general," I snatched his hand and exclaimed,'^ Huzza! 
God save my friend ! my noble General Marion ! 
general! general 1 Aye that will do ! that will clo! that 
sounds somewhat in unison v/ith your deserts." 

" Well, but what do you think of the stifle^'' replied 
he, " and of the prerogative — is it not prodigiously in 
the pompous ?" 

" Not at all,'' said I. 

" No," continued he ; " why now to my notion, it is 
very much in the turgid, in the Asiatic. It gives me 
dominions from river to river, and from the mountains 
to the great sea, like Tamerlane or Ghenghis Khan ; 
or like George III. ' by the grace of God, king of 
Great Britain, France,' &c. &c. whereas, poor 
George dares not set a foot there, even to pick up a 
or^riwinkle !" 

" Well, but general," said I, " as the English gav< 
France to George I:ecause they wish him to have it, 
so I suppose the good governoi gives you this vast:"'"' 
district for the same reason." 

" Perhaps so^"' replied Marion. 

Tht truth is, governor Rutledge was a most ardent 
lever of his country ; and, therefore, almost adored 
6uch an unconc^uerable piitriot as Marion. 

Hence, when he found, that notwithstanding the 
many follies and failures of northern generals and ar- 
mies ; Qotwithst-uxding: the victoiies, and proclanui* 
M 



126 THE LIFE Of 

tions,and threats of Cornwallis andTarjcton, Mario« 
still stood his ground, and fought and conquered for 
Carolina; his whole soul was so filled wiUi love of 
him, that I verilv believe he would have given him 
** all the kingdoms of the earth and the glory thereof/' 
had they been in his gift. Indeed what he did give 
him was sketched o\ii with a prodlgiouslv bold hand. 
He ga\e him all that territory, comprehended within 
a line drawn from Cliarleston along the sea, to Cieorge- 
town i thence westerly to Camden; and thence to 
Charleston again ; making a domain of extent, po- 
pulation, and wealth, immense ; but over which the 
excellent governor had no more power to grant mili- 
tary jurisdiction, than to give kingdoms in the moun ; 
for the whole of it was in the hands of the British, 
and their friends the tories ; so that the governor had 
not a foot to give Marion : nor did INIarion hold a 
foot of it but by his own vigilance and valour; which 
were so extraordinary, that his enemies, with all theii 
men, money, and malice, could never drive him ou 
/it. 

J5ut while governor Rutledge, with all the good 
s^higs of the state, were thus heartily rejoicing with 
JVIarion for his victories, the British and tories were 
lis madly gnashing their teeth upon him for the same. 
To be struck four such severe blows, in so short a 
'time, and all rising one over another in such cursed 
-climax of bad to worse ; to be losing, in this manner, 
their dear allies, with all their subsidies of arms, am- 
:munition, and money; to have their best friends thus 
•cooled ; their worst enemies thus heated ; and rank 
rebellion a-gain breaking up, out of a soil where they 
nad promised themselves nothing but the richest fruits 
'of passive obedience : and all this by a little, ugly 
^Rpa^vn of a Frenchman ! It M'as too much ! they could 
not stand it. Revenge they n\ust and would have; 
that was ceitain : and since, with all t!\eir enorts, they 
•could not get at Marlon, tb.e hated trunk and root of 
all, they were determined to Inirn and sweat hi 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 127 

branches, the p"or uhlgs, i. e. to carry *he curses of 
fire and sword rhroujjh all their families and habita 
tions. 

Now, had this savage spirit appeared among a few 
poor British cadets ^ or p'vieifil'ood tones, it would not 
have been so lamentable. Their ignorance of those 
divine truths, which exalt the soul above such hellish 
passions, would have furnished some plea for them, 
But, that a British general, and tliat general a nobltv- 
man ! a lord ! with an archlnshop for his brother, and 
hot-pressed bibles, and morocco prayer books, and all 
such excellent helps, to teach him that " God is love," 
and *^ mercy his delight ;" that such a one, I say, 
should have originated the infernal warfare, of plun- 
dering, burning, and hanging the American patriots, 
is most HORRIBLE. And yet, if possible, more trud 
than horrible. Yes, sure as the day of doom, when 
that fearful day shall come, and lord Cornwallis, stript 
of his " brief authority," shall stand, a trembling ghost 
before that equal bar : then shall the evil spirit, from 
the black budget of his crimes, snatch the foUoTving 
bloody oj'd(f)\ and grinning an insulting smile, flash it 
before his lordship^s terrified optics. 

August 13, 1780. 
To lieutenant colonel Cru^er^ commandant at the Bn- 

thh garrison at Ninetij-Six. 
Sir, 

I have given orders that all the inhabitants of thiJ* 
province, who had submitted, and who have taken a 
part in this revolt, shall ho. punished xv'ith the greatest 
rigour ; that they shall be imprisoned^ and their whole 
property taken from them or destroijed. I have like- 
wise directed, that compensation should be made oat 
of their effects, to persons who have been plundered 
and oppressed by them. I have ordered, in the most 
positive manner^ that every militia-man who had 
borne arms with us, and had afterwards joined tlie 
•ncmy. bhould be inimcdiutely hanged* I have now 



sir, onjy to desire that you will take tiie most .vigor- 
ous measures to extinguish the rebellion in the dis- 
trict which you comniand, and thiit you will obey^ in 
the strictest maimer^ the directions I have given id 
this letter, relative to the treatment of this country. 

This order of lord Cornwallis proved to South Ca- 
oliha like the opening of Pandora's box. Instantly 
there broke forth a torrent of cruellies and crimes 
never before heard of in our simple forests. Lord 
Rawdon acted, as we shall see, a shameful part in 
these bloody tragedies, and so did colonel Tarleton. 
But the officer who figured most in executing the de- 
testable orders of Cornwallis, M'^as a major Weymies 
This man was, by birth, a Scotsman ; but, in princi- 
ple and practice, a IMohawk. So totally destitute was 
he of that amiable sympathy which belongs to his 
nation, that, in sailing up Winyaw bay, and Wacca- 
maw and Pedee rivers, he landed, and pillaged, and 
burnt every house he durst approach ! Such was the 
style of his entry upon our afHicted state, and such the 
spirit of his doings throughout: for wherever he went, 
an unsparing destruction awaited upon his footsteps. 
Unhappily, our country had but too many pupils 
that fitted exactly such a preceptor. '.Vhe lazy, draai- 
drinking, plunder-loving tories, all gloried in major 
Weymies : and were ever ready, at the winding of 
his horn, to rush forth with him, like hungry blood- 
hounds, on his predatory excursions. The dogs of 
iiell were all now completely imcoupled, and every 
devilish passion in man had its proper game to fly at 
Here was a fine time for malice to feed her ancient 
grudges ; for avar'ce to cram her maw with plunder; 
and revf.nge to pay off her old scores, with bloody 
interest. 

A thievish tory, who had been publicly whipped 
by a whig magistrate, or had long coveted his silver 
tankard, or his handsome rifle, or his elegant horse, 
had Init to point out his house to major Weymies, 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 129 

•mi! say, "Tliere lives a d — d rebel." The amiable 
^ajor and his myrinidoiis, would surround the noble 
building in a trice; and after gutting it of all its rich 
furniture, would reduce it to ashes. It was in vain 
that the poor delicate mother and her children, on 
bended knees, with wringing hands and tear-swim- 
ming eyes implored him to pity, and not to burn their 
house over their heads. Such elot[uence, which has 
often m.oved the breasts of savages, was all lost on 
nipjor Weymies and his banditti. They no more re- 
garded the sacred cries of angel-watched children 
than the Indians do the cries of the young beavers, 
whose houses they are breaking up. 

But, oh, joy eternal! *'" the Loud is king." His 
law is love, and they who sin against this law, soon or 
late, shall find that they have sinned against their own 
souls. 

A planter, in his fields, accidentally turning toward* 
his house, suddenly discovers a vast column of smoke 
bursting forth, and ascending in black curling volumes 
to heaven. " Oh my God ! my house !" he exclaims, 
" my poor wife and children !" Then, half bereft of 
his senses, he sets oiT and runs towards his house. — 
Still, as he cuts the air, he groans out, ^' Oh, my pooi 
wife and children '" Presently he hears their cries ; 
?ie sec s them at a distance with outstretched arms 
flying towards him. Oh, pa! pa! pa! his children 
tremblingly exclaim , while his wife, all pale and ou 
of breath, falls on his bosom, and, feebly crying out. 
" The British ! oh the British^'' sinks into a swoon 

Who can tell the feelings of the father and the has 
bai^d ! His wife convulsed in his arms ! his little beg- 
gared children screaming around him ! and his pro- 
perty all sinking to ruin, by merciless enemies .' Pre- 
sently his wife, after a strong fit, with a deep sigh* 
comes to herself; lie wipes her tears; he embraces 
and hushes his children. By and by, supposing thi 
British to be gone, arm in arm the mournful group 
tW^ ^at ah. ^^?5i^ing sifiht I their Qnc<5 stately 



ISO THE LIFE OF 

maQsion which shone so beauteous on the plain, tJie 
pride and pleasure of their eyes, is now the prey of 
devouring flames. Their slaves have all disappeared ; 
dieir stock, part is taken away, part lies bleeding in 
the yard, stabbed by bayonets ; their elegant furniture, 
tables, glasses, clocks, beds, all is swallowed up. An 
army of passing demons could have done no worse. 
But while with tearful eye they are looking round on 
the wide-spread ruin, undermined by the fire, down 
€omes the tall building with thundering crash to the 
ground. The frightened mourners start aghast from 
the hideous squelch, and weep afresh to see all the 
hopes and glories of their state thus suddenly ended 
in smoke and ashes. 

It was in this way exactly that the British treated 
my brother, major Hugh Horry, as brave a soldier as 
ever fought in America. They laid in ashes all his 
dwelling houses, his barns of clean rice, and even his 
rice stacks / Destroyed his cattle ; carried off eighty 
negroes, which were all he had, not leaving him 
one to bake him a cake. Thus, in one hour, as the 
wild Arabs served Job, did the British serve my 
poor brother, breaking him up root and branch ; and, 
from a state of afHuence, reduced him to a dunghill. 

These savage examples, first set by the British, and 
followed by the tories, soon produced the effect which 
Marion had all along predicted. They filled the hearts 
of the suflferers with the deadliest hate of the British ; 
and brought them, in crowds, to join his standard, 
with muskets in their hands, and vows of revenge 
eternal in their mouths. 

Hence it was that nothing so pleased Marion as to 
hear of British cruelty to his countrymen. 

" 'Tis a harsh medicintf^'''' he used to say, *'' but it is 
necessary; for there is nothing else that will 7uork 
them. And unless they are well -vorktid and scoured 
of their mother milk, or hfastling partiality to the 
English, they are lost. Our country is like a man who 
has swallowed a mortal poison. Give him an anodyne 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION" 131 

t(» keep him easy, and he's a dead ma?:. But 'if yoa 
can only knock him about, and so put the poison in 
motion as to make him deadly sick at the stomach, and 
heave like a dog with a bone in his throat,, he is safe, 
Cornwallis hiis all this time been lulling them by his 
proclamations, and protections, and lies. But, thank 
God, that time is pretty well over now ; for these un- 
feeling monsters, these children of the devil, have let 
out the cloven foot, and the thing is now beginning to 
work as I expected. Our long deluded people are 
opening their eyes, and beginning to see and smell the 
blood and burnings of that Tophet, that political hell 
of slavery and ruin, to which the British army is now 
endeavouring, by murder and rapine, to reduce 
them." 

This was truly the case : for, every day the whigs 
were coming into Marion's camp. Those who were 
too old to fight themselves, would call upon their 
sturdy boys to " turn out and join general Marion^"* 

It was diverting to see how they v/ould come 
staving upon their tackles ; belted round with their 
powderhorns and shotbags, with rides in hand, and 
their hum.ble homespun streaming in the air. The 
finely curling smile brightened in the face of Ma- 
rion ; and his eye beamed that laughing joy, with 
which a father meets his thoughtless boy, returning 
dirty and beaten by blackguards, from whose dan- 
gerous company he had sought in vain a thousand 
times to wean him. 

" Well, my son !" Marion would say, " and v/hat 
good news do you bring us V 

" Why, why, why, sir general," replies the youth, 
half cocked with rage, and stammering for words, 
** as I was overlooking my father's negroes in the rice 
grounds, the British and tories came and took them 
and carried them all away ; and I only am left alone 
to tell you." 

Presently another comes 5SS[^ says: "As I w^ 
driving the horses and catC?§ (^i>wij li th® f.l 



„>H* 



Uli THK LIFE OF 

^ic British and torics fell upon them, and carried 
iicm all away ; and I alone am left to tell you/* 

While he was yet speaking, another comes and 
says; ^* The British and tories cann *>vifh fire and 
burnt our houses and goods, and have driven my 
mother and the children into the woods; and 1 only 
am left alone to tell you." 

Ntxt comes another, who says : '" My father and 
niyseif were ploughing together in the iield, and the 
British and tories came upon us and shot my father* 
and I only am left alone to tell you." 

Another comes and tells, that "lord Rawdon is 
taking the whig prisoners every week, out of the jail 
in Camden, and hanging them up by half dozens, neai 
the v/indows, like dead crows in a corn-field, to tright* 
"^n the rest, and make good tories of them." 

Another states, that " colonel Charles Pinckney, 
prisoner in Charleston, for striking a couple of inse 
lent ncg'roes^ was cursed by the British officers »is a 
d — d rebels and driven with kicks Mid blows into the 
house, for daring to strike his Britannic 3Iaje^tifs 
auhjccts:"''* 

Here Marlon snapped his fingers for joy, and shout- 
•'(\,'^Jl!rzza/ that's right I that's right! O my noble 
'*^ritons, lay on ! lay on the spaniels stoutly I they want 
jrA^itish protections, do they I O the rogues I show 
them no quarter, but give it to them handsomely! 
break their backs like dogs! cut them over the face 
and eyes like cats ! bang them like asses ! tliank ye ? 
thank ye, Cornv.-allis and Rawdon ! most noble lords, 
I thank ye ! you ha\e at last brought the wry face 
upon my countrymen, the cold siueat^ the sardonic 
grin. Thank God! the potion begins to work' 
huzza, my sons ! heave ! heave I aye, there comes the 
bile; the atrabi liar i/ ; the black voiniting which por- 
tends death to the enemy. Now Britons, look to your 
ships, for Carolina will soon be tOM hot to hold you.* 



GKN. FRANCIS MARION. 13.' 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Colonel Tynes^ the famous ton/ partisan^ attejnpts to 
surprise 3Ianon — is himself surprised and taken^ 
%vith nearlu all his partij — the author^ zvit/i thirtif 
choice cavaliers^ sent by JIarion to reconnoitre — de- 
ft 2t of a British partij a f horse — anecdote of Scotch 
Macdonald — surprise and slaughter of the torles — 
captain Lewis is killed — anecdote of an extraordi 
niry led. 

SOON after this last victory on Pedee, Marion 
moved down into the neighbourhood of Black river ; 
where he irxStantly got notice, that a large body of 
tories under the celebrated Col. Tynes, vv^ere making 
great preparations to attack him. I'his Tynes was a 
man of valour and address worthy of a better cause. 
In several contests with the w?iigs, he had handled 
them very roughly ; and was become such a terror to 
the friends of liberty in that part of the world, that 
they were greatly alarmed on finding that he was 
mustering all his forces to attack Marion. We were 
scarcely encamped, before three expresses arrived 
from the whi|; settlements on Black river, stating 
colonel Tynes^ movements; and advising to keep a 
g'ood look out, for that he was a very artful and dan- 
gerous flic-iv. According to tbcir conjectures, colonel 
Tynes must have had no less than one hundred and 
fifty men: our number did not quite reach ninety; 
but they were all volunteers, and exceedingly chafed 
and desperate in their minds, by the barbarous usage 
of the Britifih and tories. Having, by this clay's 
march of fifty miles, got within twenty miles of the 
enemy, who supposed that we were still on Pedee. 
Marion instantly resolved to attack him that night. 
Nr> sooner was this made known to the troops, than 
the fatigues of the day appeared to be entirely for« 
gotten. All hands fell to work, currying, rubbing and 
feeding their norses, like young men preparing for a 



f«4 THK LIFE OF 

ball or barhacue. Then after a hearty supper ami a 
few hours' sleep, we all sprung upon our chargers 
again, and dashed off about one o'clock, to trv our 
fortune with colonel I'ynes. Just before day, we came 
upon tlie enemy, wliom we found buried in sleep. 
The roar of our guns fu'st broke their slumbers ; and 
by the time the frightened wretches had got upon their 
legs, man and horse, we were among them hewing 
down. Three ajid thirty fell under our swords ; for- 
ty-six were taken ; the rest, about sixty, made their 
escape. Colonel Tynes himself, with upwards of one 
hundred horses, and all the baggage, fell into our 
hands. 

A day or two after this victor}', the general order 
ed me to take captain Baxter, lieutenant Postell, and 
sergeant ^lacdonald, with thirty privates, and see if I 
could not gain some advantage over the enemy near 
the lines of Cieorgetown. About midnight we cross- 
ed Black river ; and, pushing on in great silence 
through the dark woods, arrived at dawn of day near 
the enemy's sentries, where we lay in ambush close 
on the road. Just after the usual hour of breakfast, 
a chair, with a couple of young ladies, 'squired by a 
brace of British oHicers elegantly mounted, came 
along at a sweeping rate from Georgetown. 

They had not passed us more than fifty steps, before 
they stopped short. I was confoundedly afraid at first 
that they had, somehow or other, smelt a rat; hut it 
turned out, as ^^'e afterwards learned, that thift wa» 
only a little courting party, going into the country to 
dine. On getting into the gloom\' woods, the girla 
w<*re taken with a quaking fit f;)r their sweethearts, 
lest that vile *•" swamp fox," as thev called INIarion, 
should come across tlicm. \\'hereupon the halt afore- 
said was ordered, and a consultation held ; the result 
of which was, that the girls should go on to their 
friend's house, and the officers back to town for a par- 
ty of tlrago/)ns. Accordingly tlic chair proceeded, and 
the ctliccrs giUope^d b;\ck by us, \mdi:»turbed} fbr wi 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 135 

6\d not think it worth while to risk an ahirrn for the 
sakt! of a couple of ofTucrs. Picsciuly !>ci>iMiiin^- to 
feel ver}' luintyrv, for wt- had ti:i\'cllcil all iii;;iit and 
eaten nothinH;, we agreed to retire to tiie house of a 
neii^hhoin iiijL;* planter, wb.o was known to be a good 
vvliig. As we entered the vard, what should we see 
hut the i\l'.-'ntir;'i chair that had ])assed us a ilttle ho 
fore! — a . - vcpping into the liouse, heliold the 
verv same w ' -j ladies! Thev were richly chesscd, 
and well fornu-d, and would no dou^t have appeared 
nandsome, but for the hostile passions which glantd 
fron) their eyes, and ^ave their whole piu'sio^';noniy 
a fury-like ex])ression. They asked us, with unreal 
pertness, "what business we had there ? The gentle- 
man of the house,'' continued they, " is not at h'jme, 
and there are no provisions here for you, and to he 
cure, yoa are too much of gentlemen to think of 
frightening a family of poor helpless women!" 

Happily I made no reply ; for while these young 
viragoes were catechising us at this rate, I discover- 
ed with much pleasure, that the lady of the liouse 
«lid not utter a word, hut walKed the room backward 
iind ibrward with a smiling countenance. Presentlv 
she went out; and showing herself at an opposite win- 
dow, beckoned me to come to her ; when she said, lu 
Hi low voice, " Go back hito the house, I'll be there 
liirectly. On my ste])ping lu you must demand pro- 
visions ; I will deny that I h.ave a::? v. You must then 
get into a violent ])assion, and sw^ea*' vou will have 
them, or set the house on hre. I wid then throw 
down the keys, and you can take just wl:at you v/ant; 
for thank (Sod, there is enough, both for you and 
your horses." 

Such was the farce, which the whigs in those days, 
6oth ladies and gentlemen, were obliged to play, when 
they had any of their tory acfjuaintance about them. 
We now played it, and with the desired success ; for 
the troughs in the yard were all ])resently fdled with 
corn and fodder for our cavalry ; while for ourselves 



156 THE LIFE OF 

the good-natured cook wenches soon served up a most 
welcome repast of fried bacon and eggs, with nice 
hearth cal:es and butter and milk. " God be praised," 
said we ; and down we sat, and made a breakfast, of 
v/hich even kings, without exercise and keen appe- 
tites, can form no idea. 

Just as we had got completely refreshed, and braced 
up again, what should we hear but the iiring of out 
sentinels. ""Ti? liorse! to horse I mif brave fello~v!i T^ 
was the cry of one and all. Quick as thought, we 
were all mounted and formed, when in came our sen- 
tinels, with the British dragoons hard after them, 
smack up to the fence. Charge boys, charge ! was 
the word. In a moment the yard was bright with tlie 
shining of our swords. The tciy girls shrieked out 
for their sweethearts — "OA tlie British I the British.' 
murder! murder! Oh!'''' Then off we went, all at 
once, in solid column. The enemy took to their heels, 
and we pursued. Over the fence we bounded like 
stags. Down the hill went the British. Down the 
hill went we ; helter-skelter, man and horse, v/e flew : 
roaring through the woods like the sound of distant 
thunder. 

Ve v/ere all excellently mounted ; but there v/as 
flo horse that could hold the way with Selim. He 
<vas the hindmost of all when the chase began ; and 
V wondered at first whnt had become of Selim ; but 
presentlv I saw him and Macdonald coming up on my 
right like a thundergust. Indeed, with his v/ide- 
spread nostrils, and long extended neck, and glaring 
eyeballs, he seemed as a flying dragon in chase of his 
prey. He soon had his master up with the enemy. 
I sn.w when Macdonald drew his claymore. The 
shining of his steel was terrible, as, rising on his stir- 
rups, with high-lifted arm, he waved it three times 
m fiery circles over his head, as if to call up all his 
strength. Then, with a voice of thunder, he poured 
his charg-ifig shout ^ dreadful as the roar of the lion 
when, close up to his game, with hideous paws un 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 137 

clenched, he makes his last spring on the fat buffaloes 
of his chase. 

ITiough their mortal enemy, I could not but pity 
the poor fugitives, for I saw that their death was at 
hand. One of the British officers fired a pistol at 
him, but without effect: before he could tryanoUier, 
he was cut down by Macdonald. After this, at a 
blow a piece, he sealed the eyes of three dragoons 
m lasting sleep. Two fell beneath the steel of the 
strong-handed Snipes ; nor did my sword return 
bloodless to its scabbard. In short, of the whole 
party, consisting of twenty-five, not a man escaped, 
except one officer, who, in the heat of the chase 
and carnage, cunningly shot off, at right angles, for 
a swamp, which he luckily gained, and so cleared 
himself. 

The name of this officer was Meriot, and as finish- 
ed a gentleman he was too, as I ever saw. * I got ac- 
quainted with him after the war, at New York. Soon 
as t'le ceremony of introduction was over, he smiled, 
and asked if I were not in the skirmish just related ? 
On being answered in the affirmative, he again in- 
quired, if I did not recollect how handsomely one of 
the British officers gave me the slip that day ? I told 
iiini I did. " Well,'* continued he, " I was that offi- 
cer ; and of all the frights I ever had in my life, that 
was the most complete. Will j^ou believe me, sir, 
when I assure you, that I went out that morning, with 
my locks of as bright an auburn as ever curled upon 
the forehead of youth ; and by the time I had crawl- 
ed out of the swamp, into Georgetown, that night, 
they v/ere as gray as a badger ! I was well nigh 
taking an oath never to forgive you, during breath, 
for frightening me so confoundedly. But, away with 
all malice ! let it go to the devil, where it belongs. 
So come, you must go dine with me, and I'll show 
you a lo^'elier woman than either of those that rode 
m the chair that day." 

I went with him, and was introduced to his wife, 
N 



1^8^ THE LIFE OF 

a lovely woman indeed ! to whom, with great glee, 
he related the whole history of the chase, and his own 
narrow escape, and then laughed very heartily. Bui 
not so his gentle partner. For, as he told of the 
shrill whizzing of our swords close behind him, and 
of the groans of his dragoons as they fell, cut down 
from their horses, her face turned pale, and pensive; 
then, looking at him with great tenderness, she heaved 
a deep sigh, to think how near her husband had been 
to death. 

Meriot looked with pleasure on the troubled coun- 
tenance of his lovely wife, because he well knew the 
fond source of her troubles. Then, snatclYing up a 
goblet of sangree, richly mantled over with nutmeg, 
he presented it to her ruby lips, saying, " Come, my j 
dear, drink, and forget the past!'' Then, taking my ' 
hand with great cordiality, he exclaimed, ^'Well, colo- 
nel Horry, we have been foes, but thank God, we are 
good friends again. And now let me drink to you a 
sentiment of my heart. Here's friendship i?i inurbky 
enmitij in dustT | 

The behaviour of this noble Englishman, has often 
served to deepen my abhorrence of war, which too 
frequently sets those to cutting each other's throats, 
who were born to be brothers. 

But to return to our story. " Meriot," you'll say, 
"and his brother officer, brought their pigs to a bad 
market.'''* Yes, mdeed: but not a jot worse than some 
of their friends came to the very day afterwards. On 
the morning of that day, Marion, now concealed in 
the swamps, near Georgetown, was pleased to order 
me out on a second excursion. " Take captain 
►Snipes," said he, " with thirty men, and proceed 
down the Sandpit road, in quest of the enemy. The 
moment you discover them, whether British or to- 
lies^ charge with spirit, and I'll warrant your suc- 
cess." 

As we approached <he bridge, still moving on very 
circumspectly, in the woods, ^'e disco^re/ed at a short 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. tB9 

distance, a body of horsemen, perhaps a hundred, ap- 
parently in great confusion, and very anxious to form. 
Instantly we took the road, and clapping spurs to our 
horses, dashed upon them at full speed, at the same 
time shouting as we rushed on. The enemy broke 
and fled in all directions. We pursued. Then you 
might have seen the woods all covered with armed 
men; some flying, others pursuing; and with muskets, . 
and pistols, and swords, shooting and cutting down 
as fast as they could. 

From the unevenness of the ground, and rapidity of 
the charge, my men v/ere all soon out of sight, leav-' 
ing with me but a lad of fourteen, named Gwinn, whr# 
carried a musket. At that instant, a party of nine or 
t^n men were seen advancing, whom I took for whigs.^ 
and challenged as such, askingif they were not friends ? 
" Friends ! O yes !" replied their captain, (one Lewis) 
" friends to be sure ; friends to king George!" 

Quick as thought, off went Gwinn's musket, close 
by roy side, and down tumbled captain Lewis from 
his horse, with a heavy squelch, to the ground. But 
in the very instant of receiving his death, his musket, 
which was raised to kill mt, took fire and shot my 
horse dead on the spot. Seeing my horse drop, Gwinn 
dismounted, and led his horse up to me in a moment. 

Happily for us both, captain Snipes heard the re- 
port of our pieces, and thinking that we might be in 
danger, dashed on to our aid, with several of my 
troop, whooping and huzzaing as they came on. The 
tory party then fired at us, but without effect, and fled, 
leaving four of Marion's men, whom they had just 
taken, and beaten very barbarously with the butts of 
their muskets. 

This was a fatal day to the tories, who must have 
lost more than half their number. For I had with me 
not only Macdonald and Snipes, but several other 
very strong and brave men, whose families had suf- 
fered very severely, by British and tory cruelty ; and. 
I am afraid, ihey did not forget this, when their 



f «0 THE LIFE OF 

«words were hanging over the heiids of the fugitives. 
At any rate, they took but few prisoners. 

In the course of this day's fighting, there happened 
an affair which served to amuse us> not a little on our 
return to our camp that night. The tories, who, from 
time to time had fallen into our hands, v/ere often 
easing their vexation, by saying, that it was true, 
** Marion had proved *oo cunning for colonel Tynes 
and captain Barfield, and other British and loyal offi- 
cers, whom he had attacked ; but that there was still 
one left behind, who, they were sure, if he could 
come forward, would soon show us quite a difi'eient 
sort of play; and that was colonel Gainey, from the 
head waters of Pedee." We answered, that it was 
all very well ; and that v/e should be glad to see col >• 
nel Gainey. Now, as God v/as pleased to have it^ 
who should it be, that with one-third of his number, 
we had been chasing so to-day, but colonel Gainey ; 
a stout officer-looking fellov/ he was too, and most 
nobly mounted. Macdonald made a dash at him, in 
full confidence of getting a gallant charger. But the 
good book tells us, that " the race is not always to the 
swift ;" and owing partly to the fleetness of his horsej 
and partly to a most extraordinary sort of accident, 
colonel Gainey made his escape from our Scotsman. 
The chase was towards Georgetown, distant little 
more than two miles. Never on earth did two horses 
or horsemen make greater exertions. Fear impelling 
the one, fury urging the other. Macdonald declared, 
that in the chase he passed several tories whom he 
could easily have cut down, but like the lion in pur- 
suit of a favourite buffalo, he took no notice of them. 
His eye was fixed on colonel Gainey. Just as they 
turned Richmond corner, Selim had brought his mas- 
ter near enough to his prey to make a stroke at him 
with his bayonet. By a sudden jerk, it is supposed, 
the weapon turned ; so that when Macdonald drew 
NlcIe the carbine, he left the bayonet up to the hilt in 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 141 

his back. In this way colonel Gainey rode into town 
prodigiously to his own and the mortification of hi* 
friends the British and tories. 



CHAPTER XVII. 



S!pirit of the tories — assassination of lieutenant Marion 
'■'—the murderer murdered — Marion! s refections on 
the death of his nephew — his manner of rexvardint^ 
extraordinary courage among his men — sketch ofikf 
brave boy Gwinn* 

. ■»' 
**If moital hands thy peace destroy, * 

O'j friendship's gifts bestow. 
Wilt thou to man ascribe the joy 
To man impute the •vvo? 

" 'Tis CiOD, whose thoughts for wisest ends 

The human lots disjjose ; 
Around thee plants assisting friends. 

Or heaps cnastising foes. 

"Not from the bow the deaths procecvl. 

But from the Arclier^s skill. 
He lends the winged shaft its jpeed. 

And gives it power to kill/' 

AND here I must relate a tragical afTair that befel 
us that day, and which filled us all with grief, because 
of our beloved general. I mean the barbarous murder 
of his nephew. Of all men who ever drew the sword, 
Marion was one of the most humane. He not only 
prevented all cruelty, In his own presence, but strictly 
forbade it in his absence. I have known him to talk 
f<br a quarter of an liour together, with one of his men, 
for striking over the head, a horse that had started ; 
and to punish another for taking away from a negro, 
his ragged chicken. To reascn ihcalike men, one 
would suppose that he was the last person on whom 
N2 



142 THE LIFE OF 

such a cruel blow as the murder of a favourite nephew 
should have fallen. Bat thanks to God, for that most 
comfortable doctrine, that not even a sparrow can die 
until his death-warrant has been signed in heaven; 
Jnd, since this young man did d^e at that time, there 
can be no doubt but that was the right time. 

The manner of his death was this. We have told 
the reader, that, in the course of this day's fighting, 
we retook from the tories four of Marion's men, whom 
they had very barbarously beaten with the butts of 
their guns. On being asked how they came to fall 
into such bad company, they said, that immediately 
after sending me oil", in the morning, Marion ^-ot in- 
formation that a party of tories were encamped not 
far distant, on a plantation of colonel Alston's, called 

" The Penns." Captain M was despatched to 

surprise them ; but he played his cards so badly, that, 
instead of surprising thern^ they surprised him^ killed 
several of his men, and took the others. Among the 
prisoners was the general's nephew, lieutenant Gabriel 
Marion, of the continentals, who, happening at that 
time on a visit to his uncle, turned out a volunteer, 
and was taken. The tories murdered several of their 
unfortunate prisoners in cold blood, by first beating 
them over the head v/ith the butts of their muskets, 
and then shooting them. They said that lieutenant 
Marion, at sight of such horrid scenes, appeared much 
shocked; and seeing among them a man who had 
often been entertained at his uncle's table, he hew to 
him for protection, and threw himself into his arms, 
The man seemed greatly distressed, and tried hard to 
save him ; but the others roared out, that " he v/aa 
one of the breed of that d — d old rebel," and that 
they would have his hearfs blood. They, moreover, 
swore, Avith the most horrid onths, that if the man 
did not instantly push young Marion from him, they 
would bloxu him throwQ-h also. The imfortunate vouth 
being then thrust from the side of his friend, waa im 
mediately destroyed. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. t43 

I hope the tender mercies of God are so great as 

not to let our iimvorthlness prevent him from always 
doing v/hat is exactly right and good for us. We ought 
not, therefore, to breathe a wish different from the will 
and order of Providence. But stiil, to us, it seems a 

great pity we did not get notice of captain M 's 

advancing. We could have made a handsome joint 
attack of it, and thereby not only have prevented the 
horrid murders above related, but have scourged 
those barbarians, as they deserved. For we heard 
the firing, but thought it was colonel Alston's people 
killing beeves. 

Among the very few prisoners that we made in our 
last action, was a mulatto fellow, who was suspected 
^o be one of those who had murdered the general's 
nephew. Whether the suspicion was well or ill found- 
ed, I cannot say: but, certain it is, that the indigna- 
tion excited against him, on that account, soon proved 
his destruction. For, as we were crossing the swamps 
of Black river that night, an officer rode up to him, 
while marching in the line of prisoners under guard, 
and with a pistol, shot him dead on the spot. The 
captain of the guard was instantly sent for. and se- 
verely reprimanded by the general, for not having 
killed the author of that savage deed. 

It was said t'nQ officer had offered a bottle of rum 
to have the mulatto shot, but, finding none that would 
do it, he did it himself. I do not give this as a fact, 
but, I know it v/as the talk in camp, though carefully 
kept from the general, as every body knew it would 
have given him great pain. lie often said, " he truly 
lamented the untimely death of his nephew ; and that 
he had been told, that this poor man was his murderer. 
But that, as a prisoner, his life ought to have been 
held most sacred ; especially as the charge against 
him was witJiout evidence, and, perhaps, no better 
than conjectiue. As to my nephew," continued he, 
** I believe he was cruelly murdered : but living vir- 
tuously, as he did, and then dying fighting for the 



THE LIFE OP 

l?J||nCi^iwi3lian,he is, no doubt, happy ; an3 this is mf 
comfort" 

The next day Marion ordered the troops t 
arms, and formed them into a large circle, all frontm^j 
the centre. While we were wondering what could be 
<he meaning of this strange manoeuvre, a sergeant was 
seen leading into the circle an elegant horse, under 
saddle and bridle, with portmanteau, sword, pistols, 
and musket. This was the horse, furniture, and arms 
of captain Lewis, whom the lad Gwinn, so fortunate- 
ly for me, had killed in the action three days before. 
Marion then called Gwinn from the ranks. 

The boy approached him with his hat off. 

The general, placing his hand upon his head, in the 
presence of the whole squadron, pronounced him " a 
brave little man ; and there," pointing to the horse and 
furniture, " there is the reward of your gallantry." 

" Gwinn, sir," said I, " is not a good soldier, he 
fired without orders." 

" That's very true," replied he, " but I am sure, 
colonel, you are the last that ought to blame me, on 
that account; for if I had not fired and killed captain 
Lewis, exactly as I did, he would have killed you, 
and besides, his saying he was the friend of George 
the thirds was enough for me ; I did not think I could 
fire too quick on such a man as that." 

But when the sergeant, at the order of Marion, led 
up to him the horse, richly furnitured, as aforesaid, 
the confusion and grimace of the lad were truly di- 
verting. He blushed, he chuckled, he looked around 
and around upon his comrades, as if at a loss how to 
contain himself, or what to do. At length he made 
shift to reach out his hand to the bridle, though deep- 
ly blushing, and said, " Dear me now! well la! what 
will mammy think, and the children, when they come 
to see me, riding up here on this famous horse, and 
all these /?«<f things ! I know well enough how mam- 
my will have a hearty cry, that's what she will ; for 
she will think I staled him. But if any of the folks 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. W5 

up our way should go to jinv about me, at that rate^ 
I trust as Ikxu^ r;eneral, you will take my part, and 
set 'em straight." 

Marion smiled, and commended him for a good 
boy, and told him to give his compliments to his 
mother, and also his thanks to her, for being such a 
irite mother to her children, in bringing them up so 
honestly. 

But the general was told the next day, that Gwinn 
had said, "he always hated the tories, because they 
woujd not fight for their country; and, since the ge- 
neral had paid him so well for killing one of them, he 
was determined to try if he could not kill more." 

And he did kill more too, I'll warrant him, for he 
was with us to the end of the war, in many a hard 
brush. A-xd then he was such a dead shot with a 
rifle ! Standing, running, or flying, it was all one to 
Gwinn. lie would make nothing, at a hundred 
yards, to stop you a buck, at full tilt through the 
woods, as hard as he could crack it ; and at every 
clip, to bring down the squirrels from the tops of the 
tallest trees in the forest. 



146 THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER XVni. 

Mutiny in our camp — Marion suppresses it — his ad' 
dress to the oncers* 

THIS war, though on our part a war of virtue^ vraa 
not always so pleasant as might have been expected. 
Instances of human weakness often occurred to dis- 
turb our harmony, and fill good men's hearts with 
sorrow. For how, without grief, could we behold a 
man fighting by our side to-day like a hcro^ for the 
rights of bleeding humanity; to-morrow, like a head* 
strong child, or a headlong beast, trampling them im- 
der foot ! And oh ! how sad to see nature's good- 
liest gifts, of manly size, and strength, and courage^ 
set off, too, in the proudest ornaments of war, 3ie 
fierce cocked hat, the flaming regimentals, and gold- 
en shoulderknots, all defeated of their power to 
charm, nay, all turned into pity and contempt, in con- 
sequence of our knowing the o*vvners to be gamblers, 
swindlers, and villains ! 

Such was the truly pitiable case of some, in tliia 
our glorious war of liberty. For want of a good edu- 
cation, I mean the early precepts of virtue, from a 
parent's lips, with a few excellent bool'S, to lift the 
noble kindlings of the soul, the fiame could not ascend 
to what was heavenly and just; but with inverted 
point, stuck downward to selfishness and vice. Men 
of this character, though enlisted in the war of liberty, 
were not her soldiers, felt not her enthusiasm, nor her 
consolations. They did not walk the camp, glorying 
in themselves, as men called to the honour of hum- 
bling the tyrant, and of establishing the golden reign 
of equal laws, in their own dear country, and thence, 
perhaps over all the earth. Alas ! no ! strangers to 
these divine views and wishes, they look no higher 
than sordid gain / and as there was but little of that 
kind of pay to be had, they were often gloomy and low 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 147 

ffpinted. ** Their life,' ' they were wont murmuringly 
to say, " was wearing away ; tlicir country gave them 
nothing, and they must e'en try to do something for 
themselves." 

In truth, plunder^ plunder^ was what they were 
spelling for. They were continually darting their 
greedy eyes upon every piece of merchandise that 
came in their way. They had the heart not only to 
plunder the tories, and to bring their unoffending 
children to want ; but also to rob and ruin their own 
fi;iends the whigs, if they could but do it with impu- 
nit)% 

1 am led to these reflections by a most shameful 
affair, which happened in our camp about this time, 
and which threatened cousequences as serious as their 
source was shameful. 

We were encamped rjear the house of a rich man 
by the name of Cross. His wife, in sense and domes- 
tic virtues, was an Aljigail; while as to her hus- 
band, his wches, though great, were his least recom- 
mendation, for he possessed all the generosity and 
honour of the noblest patriot. His soul delighted in 
Marion, whom he called the jOzV/ar of our cause. Oft 
Bs he took leave of us, for battle, his bosom v/ould 
heave, his visage swell, and the tear would start into 
his eye. And when he saw us return again, loaded 
with the spoils of victory, he would rush to meet us, 
with all a brother's transports on his face. His flocks 
and herds, his meat-houses and corn-fields, were all 
our own ; while his generous looks would tell us that 
he still wished for more to give. Indeed, often at the 
most imminent risk of his life, he used to send us in- 
telligence, and also furnish us with powder and ball. 
But this most amiable of men, was not permitted to 
see our cause triumphant; for in the midstof his sighs 
and tears for his struggling country, God took him to 
his own rest. The messenger of death came to him. 
in the character of a nervous fever. As the phvsi- 



148 THE LIFE OF 

clans did not lilce to visit him on his plantation, hft 
vas carried into Georgetown to be near them. 

Marion went to see him the morning he set out; 
And immediately after his departure, fixed a guard at 
rlis house, that nothing might be difiturbed. One 
would indeed have supposed it unnecessary to place 
a guard over such a house as his. But alas ! what 
will not a base heart-hardening avarice do ! And I 
blush while I relate, that, the very day after our ge- 
nerous friend was carried off, pale and hollow-eyed, 
to Georgetown, whence he never more returned, two 
of our officers, one of them a Major, went to his 
house to pillage it ! 

The guard, of course, opposed : but they dammed 
him for an " impertinent rascal," and swore that if he 
opened his mouth again, they would spit him on the 
spot. Then bursting the door, they went in, and after 
forcing the desks, drawers, and trunks, they rifled 
them of whatever they wanted. 

This most unsoldierly and detestable transaction 
was communicated to me by Mrs. Cross herself; 
whose servant came to me next morning with her 
compliments, and requested that I would go down to 
her, where she was sitting in her carriage at the road. 
I waited on her at once ; and greatly to my grief, 
found her in tears. I entreated to know the cause. 

"Oh, sir," replied she, "we are ruined! we are 
ruined! Poor Mr. Cross is, I fear, on his deathbed. 
And then what will become of me and my poor chil- 
dren, when he is gone, and every thing is taken from 
us !" She then reminded me of her husband's love 
to general Marion and his people, from v/hom he 
withheld nothing, but gladly imparted of all he had, 
though often at the risk of his utter destruction from, 
the British and tories. " And yet, after all," said 
she, " soon as my poor sick husband's back is turned, 
your people can go and break him up !" 

''Madam," I replied, "I hope 'tis no offence to 
ask your pardon ; for i really cannot admit a suspi- 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 149 

cion so disgraceful to our troop : and to n\y certain 
Knowledge, general IMarion placed a guard over your 
house the moroeiitMr. Cross left it." 

*' Yes, sir," said^ she, " that's very true. And it 
was like general Marion. But some of our ofKcevs 
have forced the guard and broken open the house, 
and this instant I saw one of them with Prlr. Cross's 
sword bv his side." 

I never felt more mortified in my life. Then, after 
entreating her to be perfectly easy about her house 
and furniture in future, I took leave of this excellent 
lady, and flew to the guard to sec if what I had heard 
were true. 

He told 5ne it was too true ; mentioned the names 
of the officers ; axid even wQiit so far as to show me 
one of them struttiive about with the sword bv his 
side I 

It was well for tKe wretch, that I did not possess 
the eyes of a basiK'i:k, for I should certainly have 
blasted him en the spot. Pausing, however, one 
salutary moment, to confirm myself in the love of 
virtue, by noting how abominable a villain looks, I 
hasted to the general v/ith the hateful tale ; which ex- 
cited in his hcnest bosom the indignation Vvhich I 
had expected. Then calling one of his aids, he said, 

" Go to major , and desire him to send me Mr. 

Cross's sword immediately." 

The aid v/as presently back, but without the sword. 
On being asked by the general, why he had not 
brought it, he replied ; " The major says, sir, that the 
sword does nnt belong to Mr. Cross. He says, 
moreover, that if you v/ant the sword, you must go 
for it yourself." 

"Well, f-o back," said the general, "and desire 
those two officers to come to me." 

It was not for suc!2 an affair as this to be kept se- 
cret. It took wind in a moment; and by the time 
the two ofHcers were arrived, almost all the field olTi" 
O 



1 THE LIFE OF 

ccrs had come together to the general's quarters, to 
ste how he would act on this extraordinary occasion. 

Inferring from the looks of the two culprits, that 
they meant to test his firmness ; and, wiUing that 
the company should fully understand the merits of 
the case, he thus addressed us : 

" You well know, gentlemen," said he," how like 
a brother the proprietor of this plantation has always 
treated us. We never gained a victory, but it caused 
him tears of joy ; and however starved by others, by 
him we have ever been feasted. You also know, that 
he is now gone, sick, to Georgetown — there, perhaps, 
to die. Soon as he left us, I placed a guard over his 
house ; but, at the same time, blushed for the reflec- 
Cion cast on my men ; all of whom, as I thought, 
would, instead of robbing, have defended it with 
their lives. But, equally to my astonishment and 
grief, I find I was mistaken. Yes, gentlemen, our 
friend has been robbed, not by the poor untutored 
privates in the ranks, but by my officers ! by those 
who ought to have abhorred such an act! Yes, gen 
tiemen, two of our brethren in arms — two of our offi- 
cers — forgetting what they owed to you, what they 
owed to me, and, most of all, to their country and to 
themselves, have done this odious deed ! And one of 
them (here he pointed to the major) now wears by 
his side the sword of our sick and injured friend. 

" Well knowing that all men, even the best, have 
too often ' done those things which they ought not to 
have done,' I felt it my duty to be as tender with this 
gentleman as possible ; and therefore, sent him a po- 
lite request that he would return the sword : to which 
he was pleased to reply, that * if I wanted it, I must 
come and take it myseUV Still wishing to settle the 
affair m a way as much to his credit as possible, I 
sent for him to come to me. And now, sir, (address* 
ing the major) I entreat of you, for the last time, to 
give me up that sword,** 

With cjreat rudeness he swore he v:ould not. In- 



■y. GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 151 

Btui y every face was dark : anH, biting his lip with 
rage, each ofRcer laid his hand upon his sword and 
looked to the general. One word, nay, one asscmtzii^ 
look^ and the brute would have been hewed to mince- 
meat in a moment. For my own part, whether I felt 
more, or governed myself less than the rest, I cannot 
say : but looking to the general, I broke out with an 
oath, that if I commanded as he did, / would have 
that fellow Imng in frje minutes. 

"This is no business of yours, sir," replied he, ra- 
ther sternly ; " they are now before me." 

Then looking at the major, still with great benigr 
nity, he said — ^'' And do you really mean, sir, not t\. 
give me up that sword ?" 

" Sir, I will not I" replied the major. 

" Sergeant of the guard !" said the general, " bring 
me instantly a file of soldiers I" 

Upon this, the major's colleague, who stood by 
was seen to touch him. 

Seeing the guard coming up with tlieir naked 
weapons, and much anger in their looks, the major 
lost his courage, turned pale, and, in a sadlv altered 
tone, whined out, " Geneial, you needed not to have 
called in the guard. I will deliver up the sword. 
Here it is." 

" No, sir, I will not accept it at your hands. Give 
it to the sergeant." 

To this humiliating order, with much shame and 
blushing, the poor major was constrained to comply. 

Thus, happily, were extinpuished the ftrst sparks 
of a mutiny, Avhich, it was once thought, would have 
broken out into a dangerous flame. The cool, dis- 
passionate address which effected this, did not fail to 
produce a proper impression on us all. 7'his the 
general easily perceived iu our looks; and tliereiinon 
as was common with him, when any sucn occasion 
served, he arose and .addressed us, in, as nearlv as I 
can recollect, the icSA: ^^'!uig words : 

*' When, gcutlemcL u% fi.V wi. catch the spirit of ouy 



t52 rilE LIFE OF 

profession; tlie spirit of men fighting for a repub2ici 
a commomvealth of brothers ! that gov eminent most 
glorious, ^yhere God alone is king! that government 
most pleasant^ v.-liere men inake and obey their own 
laws ! and that government most prosperous^ where 
men, reaping as they sow, feel the utmost stimulus 
to every virtue that can exalt the human character 
and condition ! This government, the glori) of the 
earthy has ever been the desire of the wise and good 
of ail nations. For this, the Platos of Greece, the 
Catos of Rome, tlie Tells of Switzerland, the Sidneys 
of England, and the Washington s of America, have 
sighed and reasoned, have fought and died. In this 
grand army, gentlemen, we are now enlisted ; and 
are combating under the same banners with those 
excellent men of the earth. Then let self-gratulation 
gladden our every heart, and swell each high-toned 
nerve. With such v/orthies by our sides, with such 
a CAUSE before our eyes, let us move on with joy to 
the battle, and charge like the honoured champions 
of God and of human rights. But, in the moment 
of victory, let the supplicating enemy find us as 
lovely in mercy, as we are terrible in valour. Our 
enemies are blind. Tliey neither understand nor de- 
sire the happiness of inank'iud. Ignorant, therefore, 
as children, they claim our pity for themselves. And 
as to their widows and little ones, the very thought 
of them should fdi our souls with tenderness. The 
crib that contains their corn, the cow that gives them 
milk, the cabin tliat shelters their feeble heads from 
the storm, should be sacred in our eyes. Weak and 
helpless, as they are, still they are the nurslings of 
heaven — our best intercessors with the Almighty. 
Let them but give us their blessings, and I care not 
how much the British curse. Let their prayers as- 
cend up before God in our behalf, and Cornwallis 
and Tarleton shall yet flee before us, like frightened 
wolves before the well armed shepherds !" 

Such were the words of Marion, in the day wrhei 



Faofe 153. 




General Marion feast htg the British OJiceron swecc 
potatoes. 



ft 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 15S 

Jie saw in our looks, that our hearts were prepared for 
instruction. And such was the epilogue to the mutiny. 
The satisfaction which it gave to tne officers was so 
general and sincere, that I often heard them say after- 
wards, that since the mutiny v/as suppressed, they 
were giad it happened ; for it had given them an op- 
portunity to hear a lecture, which they hoped would 
make them better men and braver soldiers too, as 
long as they lived. 

About this time we received a flag from the ene- 
my in Georgetown; the object of which was, to make 
some arrangements ?bout the exchange of prisoners. 
The flag, after the usual ceremony of blindfolding, 
was conducted into Marion's encampment. Having 
heard great talk about general Marion, his fancy had, 
naturally enough, sketched out for him some stout 
figure of a warrior, such as O'Hara or Cornwallis 
himself, of martial aspect and flaming regimentals. 
But what was his surprise, when, led into Marion's 
presence, and the bandage taken from his eyes, he 
beheld in our hero, a swarthy, smoke-dried little 
man, with scarce enough of threadbare homespun to 
cover his nakedness ! and in place of tall ranks, of 
gaily dressed soldiers, a handful of sunburnt yeliow- 
legged miiitia-men ; some roasting potatoes and some 
asleep, with their black firelocks and powderhorns 
lying by them on the logs I Having recovered a little 
from his surprise, he presented his letter to general 
Marion; who perused it^, and soon settled every thing 
to his satisfaction. 

The ofiicer took up his hat to retire 

" Oh no '' said ^ia^ion ; it is novv^ about our time 
of dining; and I hope, sir, you will give us the plea- 
sure of your company to dinner." 

At mention of the word dinner^ the British ofHcer 
looked around him ; but to his great mortification, 
could see no sign of a pot, pan, Dutch-oven, or any 
other cooking utensil that could raise the spirits of a 
hungr}' man. 






154 THE LIFE OF 

" Well, Tom," said the general to one of his men 
" come, give us our dinner." 

The dinner, to which he alluded, was no other than 
a heap of sweet potatoes, that were very snugly roast- 
ing under the embers, and which Tom, with his pine 
stick poker, soon liberated from their ashy confine- 
ment; pinching them, every now and then, with his 
fingers, especially the big ones, to see whether they 
were well done or not. Then having cleansed them 
oi the ashes, partly by blowing them with his breath, 
and partly by brushing them with the sleeve of his 
old cotton shirt, he piled some of the best on a large 
piece of bark, and placed tht.ii between the British 
officer and Marion, on the trunk of the fallen pine on 
which they sat. 

" I fear, sir," said the general, " our dinner will 
not prove so palatable to you as I could wish ; but it 
is the best we have." 

The officer, who was a well bred man, took up one 
of the potatoes and affected to feed, as if he had found 
a great dainty; but it was very plain, that he ate 
more from good manners than good appetite. 

Presentlv he broke out into a hearty laugh. Ma- 
rion looked surprised.-,"! beg pardon, general," 
said he : "but one cannot, you know, always com- 
mand his conceits. I was thinking how drolly some 
of my brother officers w^ould look, if our government 
were to give them such a bill of fare as this." 

" I suppose," replied Marion, " it is not equal to 
their style of dining." 

" No, indeed," quoth the officer ; " and this, I ima- 
gine, is one of your accidental lent dinners ; a sort of 
a ban ijan. In general, no doubt, you live a greal 
deal better." 

" Rather v/orse," answered the general : " for often 
we don't get enough of this." 

" Heavens !" rejoined the officer. " Bat probably, 
what you lose in meal you make up in malt i thongb 
sti-nted in provisions^ you draw nohie pat^ ? 



i'JV 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 155 

**Not a cent, sir," said [Marion, " not a cent." 

" Heavens and earth ! then you must be in a bad 
hxDX. I don't see, general, how you can stand it." 

" Why, sir," replied Marion, with a smile of self- 
approbation, " these things depend on feeling." 

The Englishman said, he " did not believe that it 
would be an easy matter to reconcile his feelb\^s to a 
soldier's life on general Marion's terms ; all fighting 
and no pay I and 7io promsicns but potatoes f 

" Why, sir," answered the general, " the h^art is 
all; and, when that is much interested, a man can 
do ^Ay thing. Many a youth would think it hard to 
indent himself a slave for fourteen years. But let 
him be over head and cars in love, and with such a 
beauteous sweetheart as Rachel, and he will think no 
more of fourteen years' servitude than young Jacob 
did. Well, now, this is exactly my case. I am in 
love; and my sweetheart is Lidert\". Be that hea- 
venly nymph my companion,, and these v/ikls and 
woods shall have charms beyond London and Paris 
m slavery. To have no proud monarch driving 
over me v;ith his gilt coaches ; nor his host of ex- 
cise-men and tax-gatherers insulting and robbing me; 
but to be my own master, my own prince and sove- 
reign, gloriously preserving rny national dignity, and 
pursuing my true happiness ; planting my vineyards, 
and eating their luscious fruits ; and sov/ing my fields, 
and reaping the golden grain : and seeing millions of 
brothers all around me, equally free and happy as my» 
self. This, sir, is what I long for." 

The oiTicer replied, that both as a man and a Bri- 
ton, he must certainly subscribe to this as a happy 
state of things. 

"Happy!" quoth Marion; ^' yes, happy indeed! 
and I had rather light for such blessings for my coun- 
try, and feed on roots, than keep aloof, though wal- 
lowing in all the luxuries of Solomon. For now, sir, 
I walk the soil that gave me birth, and exult in the 
thought that I am not unworthy of it. I look upon 



156 THE LIFE OF 

these venerable trees around me, and feel that I i* 
not dishonour them. I think of my own sacrtd 
rights, and rejoice that I have not basely deserted 
them. And when I look forward to the long agei 
of posterit)', I glory in the thought that I am Rghting 
their battles. The children of distant generations 
may never hear my name ; but still it gladdens my 
heart to think that I am now contending for their 
Jreedom^ and all its countless blessings." 

I looked at Marion as h,e uttered these sentiments, 
and fancied I felt as when I heard the last v/ords of 
the brave De Kalb. The Englishman hung his ho- 
nest head, and looked, I thought, as if he had seen 
the upbraiding ghosts of his illustrious countrymen, 
Sidney and Hampden. 

On his return to Georgetown, he was asked bv 
colonel Watson why he looked so serious ? 

" I have cause, sir," said he, *' to look serious." 

" ^\Tiat ! has general Marion refused to treat ?" 

" No, sir." 

" Well, then, has old Washington defeated sir 
Henr\' Clinton, and broke up our army ?" 

" No, sir, not that neither ; but ivorsep 

" Ah ! what can be worse ?" 

" Why, sir, I have seen an American general and 
his officers, without pay, and almost without clothes, 
living on roots and drinking water ; and all for Li- 
berty! What chance have v/e against such men!" 

It is said colonel Watson was not much obliged to 
him for this speech. But the young ofncer was so 
struck with Marion's sentiments, that he never rested 
until he threw up his commission, and retired from 
the service. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. ^ IS? 
: ' CHAPTER XIX. 

* Ah brandy ! brandv I bane of lifc« 
** Sprins," cf tumait — source of strife : 
» Could I but half thy curses teil, 
"The wise would wish thee safe at he'll.* 

Curious and Instructhe Anecdotes, 

THAT great poet, John Milton, who scents to 
liHve known him well, assures us that the devil was 
ihe inventor of gunpv'wder. But, for my own part, 
-^ere I in the humour to ascribe any particular inven- 
tion to the author of all evil, it should be that of dis 
tilling apple-brandy. Wt have scripture for it, thai 
he began his capers with the apple ; then, why no* 
go on vath the brandy, wnich is but the fiery juice 
of the apple ? 

At any rate, I am pretty sure I shall hardly ever 
De able to think of it again with luicrable patience, as 
kOng as I live. For, it was that vilc iikhy poison that 
cut me out of one of the finest pluTr^^^i that I ever ex* 
ected to feather my cap with. 
1 nc case stands Lrieliy thus. 1 have told the 
reader, that Marion surprised and captuied the cele* 
brated tory partisan, colonel Tynes, after killing the 
major part cf his men. For safe keepijig, he wcu? 
dent into North Carolina; whence he made hid es- 
cape — got back jnto the forests of Black rivtr, and 
I collected a stout force to try his fortune a st\,o*id 
j time with Marion. 

! But, getting knowledge of the thing, Marion made 
j one of his forced marches, fell upon him, unawares, 
j and broke him up worse than before ; killing and 
' Caking his whole party^ Tynes w?*. btnt again to 
! North Carolina; whence he contrived agr»in to make. 
nis escape; and, returning to his old haunts, soou 
, rallied a form^idable force, for a third trial. This 
j news was ioon brought to general Marion, who there- 
upon, dsi^ rT(". rac \^ take foity of our best cavaliersi 



15B THE LIFE OF 

and see if \ye could not scourge colonel Tynes once 
more. 

About sunset we mounted, and travelled hard all 
that night and until the middle of next day, when we 
halted, for refreshment, at the house of one who was 
truly a " publican and sinner,'' for he was a great tory 

Not knowing what secret intelligence the man 
might convey to the enemy, who were but fifteen 
miles off, I had him taken up and put under guard. 
We then got dinner, for which we honourably paid 
the poor woman his v/ife. And now comes my woful 
story. While, after dinner, I was busily employed 
in catechising my prisoner, how should the devil be 
employed, but in tempting my men with the distilled 
juice of the apple ? Having, by some ill luck, found | 
out that there v/as a barrel of it in the house, they 
hastened to the poor landlady, who not only gave 
them a full dose for the present, but tilled their bot- 
tles and canteens. 

As we pushed on, after dinner, in high spirits, foi 
the enemy, I could not but remark how constantly 
the men were turning up their canteens. 

'' What the plague have you got there, boys," said 
I, " that you are so eternally drinking." 

" Water ! sir, water ! nothing but water !" Tht 
rogues were drinking brandy all the time ; but, bv 
way of whipping the devil round the stump, they 
called it xvater I that is, apple water. 

Presently, finding, from their gaiety and froiick* 
someness, what they had been after, I ordered a halt, 
and set myself to harangue them for such unsoldierly 
conduct. But I m.ight as well have talked to a troop 
of drunken Yahoos. For, some of them grinned in 
my face like monkeys ; others looked as stupid as 
asses ; while the greater part chattered like magpies . 
each boasted what a clever fellow he was, and what 
mighty things he could do, yet reeling all the time, 
and scarcely able to sit his horse. Indeed our guide, 



GEN. FRANClb -j^AUION. 159 

X fat jolter-heade:^ ''ellow, fetching one of his heavy 
lee lurches, got so far beyond his perpendicular, that 
he could not right again ; but fell olT, and came to 
the ground as helpless as a miller^s bag. In short, 
among my whole corps there was but one sober man, 
and that was captain Neilson. 

It is not for language to express one thousandth 
part of my mortification and rage. To have made 
such an extraordinary march, and at the head of such 
choice fellows too; to have come almost within sight 
of the enemy ; an enemy that I was eager to humble, 
and which would have yielded me so complete and 
glorious a victory ; and yet to have lost all so shame- 
fully: and thus like a fool to be sent back to my 
general, v/ith my finger in my mouth.- v/as, indeed, 
almost beyond endurance. But I was obliged to en- 
dure it. For, to have led my men into action, in that 
condition, would have been no better than murdering 
them. And to have kept them there until they could 
have cooled off, was utterly out of the question. For 
there was no-t a family in that whole district that 
would, with their good will, have given us an hour's 
repose, or a morsel of bread. I therefore instantly 
ordered a retreat, which was made with all the noise 
and irregularity that might h?.ve been expected from 
a troop of drunkards, each of whom mistaking him- 
self for commander in chief, gave orders according to 
his own mad humour ; and whooped and hallooed at 
such a rate, that I verily believed, no bull-drivers 
ever made half the racket. 

That we should have obtained a most complettj 
victory, is very certain. For in a few days after this, 
we laid hands upon some of those very same toriesi^ 
who stated, that in consequ«?ace of the noise which 
we made that night, colonel Tynes despatched some 
of his cavalry up the road next morning, to see what 
was the matter. On comiiig to tbe spot, where I ha I 
vainly endeavoured to form my drunken dogs, the / 
P 



160 THE LIFE OF 

found on the ground some of our plumes ; which 
colorel T\Ties no sooner saw than he bawled out, 
" Marion I Marion /" then, leaping on their horses^ 
ofTthey went, whip and spur. 

*'' Well, where is colonel Tynes V said the general, 
as I entered his presence. This was the question 
which I had expected, and, indeed, blushed for the 
answer. But after hearing my doleful story, he re- 
plied with his usual philosophy : " WelL you did right 
to retreat ; but pray keep a careful eye on the apple 
water next time." 

But to give the devil his due, I must confess there 
was one instance, in which I thought some good was 
done by brandy. This was in the case of captain 
Snipes and his command, which by way of farce to 
Biy own tragedy, I beg leave to relate. 

Hearing of a tory camp-meeting not far distant, 
Marion despatched the brave captain Snipes with a 
party to chastise them* They had scarcely got upon 
the tory cruising-ground, before, at a short turn in the 
road, they came full butt upon a large body of horse- 
men. Supposing them to be tories, Snipes instantly 
gave the word to charge ; himself leading the way 
with his usual impetuosity. The supposed tories, 
wheeling about, took to the sands, and went off, as 
hard as their horses could stave ; and thus, crack and 
crack, they had it for a])Out two miles. 

Finding that Snipes was gaining upon them, the 
runagates began tol/ghten themselvf'.s of every thing 
they could spare, r.nd the road was presently strewed 
with blankets apj knapsacks. One of them, it seems, 
carried a five gallon keg of brandy, which he could 
not think of parting vv'ith ; and being well mounted, he 
stood a g'ood pull for the tv/o first miles. But finding 
he was dropping astern very fast, he slyly cut the straps 
jf his mail pillion, and so let his keg, brandy and all 
go by the run, over his horse's rump. Captain Snipes. 
nrho led the chase, found uu difficulty \\\ passing the 



GEN. FRANCIS MARKVN. 161 

keg s Iriit his men coming up instantly, luoachcd to, ai& 
standiiig; for tbey could no more ya&s by a keg (vj 
brandy, than young monkeys could pass a basket oi 
apples. 

Snipes cursed and raved like a madman, but all is- 
vain : for they swore they tniiat have a dram. "W^hile 
they were devising ways and means how to get mUv 
the keg, the supposed tories, now a good distance 
fthead, carne to a halt, and their captain fortunately re- 
flecting that their pursuers might not be <'r)emies, sen! 
' back a flag. The result was, the very joyful disrovery, 
that the owners of the keg were good whigs coming 
lojoin general Marion. Thus, to a moral certainty^ 
this keg of brandy was made, of kind heaven, the 
happy means of preventing much blood.-^hed that day 
\ Having given tM^o cases of Inandy, the one good, 
the oiher bad, I will now give a third, which the reader, 
I if he pleases, may call hid'ijfcrent^ and which runs as 
I follows. 

General Marion, still encamped in the neighbour- 
' hood of Georgetown, ordered captain Withers to 
I take sergeant Macdonald, v/ith four volunteers, and 
\ go on the enemy's lines to see what they were doing. 
' (3n approaching the tov.m, they met an old tory ; one 
I of your haii-witted fellows, whom neither side re- 
garded any more than a Jew does a pig, and there- 
I fore sulleredhim to stroll Avhen and where he pleased. 
I The old man knew captain Withers very well ; and 
j as soon as he had got near enough to recollect him, 
I he bawled out, " God's mercy, master Withers ! why, 
I where are you going this course ?" 

" Going, old daddy ! why to the devil, perhaps," 
1 replied Withers. 

: " Well faith ! that's like enough, captain," said the 
J old man, " especially if you keep on this tack much 
longer. But before you go any further, suppose you 
take a pull with me uf this holding up a stout tickler 



162 THE LIFE OF 

of brandy, mayhap you may not gel such good liqctoi* 
where you are going." 

" WitJi all my heart, daddy," answered Withers, 
and twigg'd the tickler to the tune of a deep dram : 
tlien passed it on to Macdonald, who also twigg'd it, 
" and Tom Iwigg'd it, and Dick twigg'd it, and Har- 
ry twigg'd it, and so they all tv/igg'd it." In the 
mean time the chat went round very briskly, and 
dram after dram, die brandy, until the tickler was 
drained to the bottom. And then the subtle spirit 
of the brandy, ascending into their noddles, worked 
such wonders, that they all began to feel themselves 
as big as field officers. Macdonald, for his part, wi-th 
a face as red as a comet, reined up Sellm, and draw- 
ing his claymore, began to pitch and prance about, 
cutting and slashing the empty air, as if he had a score 
of enemies befoie him, and ever and anx)n, roaring 
out — "Huzza, boys! daniine, let's charge!" 

" Charge, boys ! charge !" cried all the rest, rein- 
ing up their horses, and flourishing their swords. 

**• Where tne plague are you going to charge ?*' 
asked the old tory. 

" Why, into Georgetown, right off," replied they. 

" Well, you had better have a care boys, how you 
charge there, for I'll be blamed if you do not get 
yourselves into business pretty quick : for the town 
is chock full of red coats." 

" Red coats !" on-e and all the}' roared out, " red 
coats ! egad, that's just what we want. Charge, 
boys ! charge ! huzza for the red coats, damme !" 

Then, clapping spurs to their steeds, off went these 
six young mad-caps, huzzaing and flourishing their 
swords, and charging at full tilt, into a British gar* 
risen town of three hundred men ! I 

The enemy, supposing that this was only our nd 
vame^ and that general IVIarion, witli his whole force, 
would presently be upon them, fiew with all speed to 
their redoubt, and there iav% as snug as fie;i.i in a 



GEN. FRANCIS MATtlON . ,161 

shccp'Skin. But all of them were not quite so lucky, 
for several were overtaken and cut down in the streets, 
among whom was a sergeant major, a stout greasy 
fellow, who strove hard to waddle away with his 
bacon; but Selim was too quick for him: and Mac- 
donald, with a back-handed stroke of his claymore, 
sent his frightened ghost to join the majority. 

Having thus cleared the streets, our young troo^t- 
ers then called at the houses of their friends ; asi;*-:! 
the nexus ; and drank their grog v/ith great unconcern. 

The British, after having for some time vainly 
looked for Marion, began to smell the trick, and in 
great wrath sallied forth for vengeance. Our adven- 
turers then, in turn, were fain to scamper oiF as fast 
as thev had made the others before, but with better 
success ; for though hundreds of muskets Avere fire(i 
after them, they got clear without receiving a scratch. 

But nothing ever so mortilied the British, as did 
this mad frolic. " That half a dozen d-n-d young 
rebels," they said, '^ should thus dash in among us in 
open daylight, and fall to cutting and slashing the 
king^'^s troops at this rate. And after all, to gallop 
away without the least harm in hair or hide. 'Tis 
high time to turn our bayonets into pitch forks, and 
go to foddering the cows." 



CHAPTER XX. 



History of captain Snipes — wanton destruction of his 
property by thetories — his own miraculous escape — 
admirable fidelity of his negro driver Cudjo. 

CAPTAIN SNIPES, who made such a figure in 
the wars of Marion, was a Carolinian, of uncommon 
strength and courage ; both of which he exerted with 
great good will, against the British and tories ; from 
principle partly, and partly from revenge. But though 
a choice soldier, he was no philosopher. He did not 
consider that to fight for duty, people must love it • 
P2 



!64 THE LIFE OF 

that to love it, they must understand it ; that to un- 
derstand it, they must possess letters and religion : 
that the British and tories, poor fellows ! possessing 
neither of these, were not to have been expected to 
*ict any other than the savage and thievish part they 
did act; and therefore, no more to be hated for it 
llian the cats are for teazing the canary birds. 

But captain Snipes had no turn for investigations 
of this sort. Knovidedge, by intuition, v/as all that 
he cared for ; and having it, by instinct, that an 
" Englishman ought never to fight against liberty," 
nor an *' American against his own country," he 
looked on them, to use his own phrase, as a " pack 
of d-n-d rascals, whom it was doing God service to 
kill wherever he could find them." 

But Snipes was not the aggressor. He kept in, 
very decently, till the enemy began to let out, as they 
did, in plundering^ burnings and hanging the poor 
whigs ; and then, indeed, like a consuming fire, his 
smothered hate broke forth : 

" That hate which hurled to Pluto's gloomy reign, 
" The souls of royal slaves untimely slain." 

Afraid, in fair fight, to m.eet that sword which had 
^o often shivered their friends, they determined to 
take him as the Philistines did Sampson, by surprise ; 
and having learned from their spies, that he was at 
home, they came upon him in force about midnight. 
His complete destruction, both of life anc^ property, 
was their horrid aiiti. Happily, his driver, or black 
overseer, overheard their approach ; and fiving to his 
master with terror-struck looks, cries out " Run ! run ' 
massa, run ! de enemy 'pon you." 

Snipes, stark nakedt save his shirt, darted out a* 
swift as his legs could carry him. 

" But whore shall I run, Cudjo ? into the bam ?" 
" Oh no, massa I dey burn de barn, dat sure ting !'* 
" Well,where shall I run then ?" 
** Take de bush massa ! take de brf^r bush." 



GEN FRANCIS MARION. 165 

Within fifty yards of the house was a clump of 
briers, so thick set, that one would have thought a 
frightened cat would scarcely have squeezed herself 
into it from the hot pursuing dogs. But what will 
not fear enable a man to do ? Captain Snipes, big as 
he was, slipped into it with the facility of a v/easel 
through the chinks of a chicken-coop ; but lost even/ 
thread and thrum of his shirt; and moreover, got 
his hide so scratched and torn by the briers, that the 
blood trickled from him fast as gravy from a fat 
green goose. 

Scarcely had he gained his hiding-place, before the 
tories, with horrid oaths, burst into his house, with 
their guns cocked, ready to shoot him. But oh ! 
death to their hopes ! he was gone : the nest was there, 
and ivann^ but the bird was flown I 

Then seizing poor Cudjo by the throat, they bawl- 
ed out: " You d — d rascal, where's your master?" 

He told them he did not know. 

" You lie I you black son of a b-t-h ! you lie." 

But he still asserted he knew nothing of his master. 

Suspecting that he must be in some one or other 
of his buildings, they set fire to them all ; to his 
dwelling house, his kitchen, his stables, and even his 
negro cabins, watching all the while, with their 
muskets ready to shoot him as he Y:xn out. From 
their nearness to his lurking place, the l^eat of his 
burni:«ig houses was so intense as to parch his skin 
mto blisters. But it was death to stir, for he would 
certainly have been seen. 

Not having made the discovery they so much wish- 
ed, they again seized Cudjo ; and, with their cocked 
pieces at his breast, swore if he did not instantly tell 
tliem where his master was, they would put him to 
death. 

He still declared he did not know where he waa. 

Then they clapped a halter round his aeck, and tol'' 



166 THE LIFE OF 

iiim to " (lov/n on his knees, and say his prayers il 
once, for he had bat two minutes to live !" 

He replied, that he " did not want to say hi« 
prayers nozu^ for that he was no thief ^ and had always 
been a true slave to his master." 

- This fme sentiment of the poor black was entirely 
lost on our malignant ivhites ; who, throwing the end 
of the halter over the limb of an oak, tucked him up 
as though he had been a mad dog. He hung till h«-; 
was nearly dead ; when one of them called out, 
" D — n him, cut him down, I'll be bound he'll tell \ii 
now." Cudjo was accordingly cut down ; and, as 
soon as a little recovered, questioned again about hia 
7naster. Buthe still declared he knew nothing of him. 
He was then^'^isted a second time ; and a second time, 
when nearly dead, cut down and questioned as before : 
but still asserted his ignorance. I'he same inhuman 
part was acte'^ on him a third time^ but with no bccicr 
success ; for the brave fellow still continued faithful 
to his master, who squatted and trembled in his place 
of torment, his brier bush, and saw and heard all that 
was passing. 

Persuaded now that Cudjo really knew nothing of 
his master, they gave up the shameful contest, and 
went off, leaving him half dead on the ground, but 
covered with glory. 

It is not easy to conceive a situation more severely 
torturing than this of captain Snipes. His house, with 
all his furniture, his kitchen, his barn and rice-stacks, 
his stables, with several fine horses, and his negro 
houses, ;'dl wrapped in flames ; himself scorched and 
blistered with the furious heat, yet not daring to stirj 
his retreat well known to a poor slave ; and that 
slave alone^ in the hands of an enraged banditti, with 
their muskets at his breast, imprecating the most hor- 
rid curses on themselves, if they did not instantly 
murder him unless he disclosed the secret ! What 
had he to expect of this poor slave, but that he would 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 167 

Bink under the dreadful trial, and to sa\e himself 
would sacrifice his master. But Snipes was safe. T( 
discover his hiding-place, death sta/ed his slave it 
\he face, hut, happily, his slave possessed for him thai 
** love which is stronger than death." 

Captain Snipes and his man Cudjo had been brought 
up from childhood together ; and the father of our 
hero being a professor of Christianity, a Baptist 
preacher, whose main excellence is '''' to teach little 
children to love one another," had taken great p-ains 
to inspire his son with love towards his little slave. 
Nor did that love pass unrequited. For Cudjo used 
every day to follow his young master to school, car- 
rying his basket for him, prattling as he went ; and 
smiling, would remind him of the coming Saturday^ 
and what fine fishing and hunting they v/ouldhave that 
day. Many a time had they wrestled, and slept side 
by side on the green ; and tbence springing up again 
\ with renovated strength, set out in full march for some 
I favourite fruit tree, or some cooling pond, there to 
I swim and gambol in the refreshing £^od. And when 
' the time of dinner came, Cudjo was not scornfully 
left to sigh and to gnaw his nails alone, but would 
\ play and sing about the door till his young master 
I was done, and then he was sure to receive a good 
\ plate full for himself. Love, thus early ingrafied on 
I his heart, grew U'p with daily increasing strength to 
I manhood ; when Snipes, by the death of his lather, 
became master of the estate, made Cudjo his driver 
or overseer, and thus rivetted on his honest bosom 
that sacred friendship v/hich, as we have seen, enabled 
him to triumph in one of the severest trials that hu- 
man nature was ever put to. 

The above is a solemn fact, and the wise will lay 
't to heart 



X68 THE LIFE OF 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Mation pursues major Muckleworth—Jine anecdote jj 
the major — Mar'zoiCs generosity to him. 

LEARNING that a detachment of the British wer*5 
marching up Black river towards Statesburgh and 
Camden, general Marion gave orders to chase ; which 
was coiiducted, as usual, with such rapidity, that 
about suxTset of the second day we came up with them. 
Our advance^ composed of choice fellows, instantly 
began to skirmish with the enemy, of whom xhty 
killed tight or nine. A few on both sides, rather 
badly wounded, were made prisoners. Marion, 
coming up, gave orders to call off the troops, meaning 
to give the enemy a serious brush in the morning.— 
But of this gratification they entirely disappointed us, 
hy striking their tents and pushing off in silence be- 
fore day. 

Soon as light returned, and the retreat of the British 
%va3 announced, we renewed the pursuit ; and by late 
breakfast-time, reached the house at which the enemy 
had refreshed themselves. This house belonged to a 
poor, but excellent old lady, well known to Marion. 

The general was hardly alighted from his horse, be- 
fore the old lady had him by the hand, declaring how 
happy she had ahuays been to see him, "but now,'' 
continued she, " if I an't right down sorry to see you, 
then I'll be hanged." 

Marion, v/ith a look of surprise, asked her why she 
was son-y to see him 7ioxu. 

'* Oh I don't I know you too well, general ? don't I 
knoAV that old Scratch lumself can't keep you from 
fiifhiiug- P And now you are hurrying along here, 
with all your men, only to fight the British. An't il 
so now, general i"'' 

jVlarion lold her, that thai was indeed his business. 

"Well, dear me now! and did I not tell you soi 
Bat pray now, my dear gen^*-«'l Marion, let me bcij 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 160 

6f you, don't you do any harm to that dear good man 
that major Muckle^vorth, who went from here a little 
while ago: for O ! he^s the sweetest-spoken, mildes. 
lookmg, noblest-spirited Englishman 1 ever saw in all 
my born days. As to that Rawdon and Tartletou 
God's curse upon the thieves and blackguards ' 1 
would not care if you could kill a thousand of them 
But t), at good major Muckleworth! indeed, indeed 
now general, you m.ust not hurt a hair of his head 
lor It vrould be such a crying sin." ' 

IMarlon asked her in what respects was he better 
than other British officers. 

" Better than other British officers !" replied the old 
w^;""''^^"^^*^, bless your dear soul, general Marion ! 
Well, come along, come along with me, and 1^11 let 
you see." 

^ We followed the old lady, who, tripping along 
mmble as a gn-1, conducted us into a clean lookinf^ 
cabm, wherein sat a middle-aged man very genteelly 
dressed, and several wounded persons lying before 
him, on pallets on the floor. Marion saluted the 
stranger, who informed us that he was " a surgeon in 
the service of his Britannic majesty, and left by major 
Muckleworth to take care of the wounded ; of whom 
6ir I believe that nearly one half are your oiun vien "' 
Here ihe old lady's face brightened up towards 

• rfc";,"^?'-^ ^''''"S ^'''''^' "^ '^^^^' significant look, she 
said. Ah ha, general ! didn't I tell vou so f" 

Then diving her withered h'jnd in her pocket, she 
scooped up a shining parcel of English guineas, and 
cxultingly cried out, '^ See there, general < see there's 
a sight for you ? and every penny of it given me bv 
that dear good gentleman, major Muckleworth ; everv 
penny of it, sir. Yes, and if you will but believe me 
general, when I and my daughters were getting 
breakfast for him and his people, if he didn't come 
Here himself with his sergeants, and had this place 
swept out all so sweet and clean for them poor sick 
people ; and, with his owa dear hands too, helped that 



170 THE LIFE OF 

gentleman there to dress and doctor the poor things 
that he did. 

" And then besides all that, general, he was such a 
sweet spoken gentleman ! for when I asked him how 
his men came to be* hurt so, he did not, like that beast 
Tarleton, turn black and blue in the face, and fall to 
cursing the d — d rebels. Oh no ! not he indeed. Bm 
he said with a smile, We got them wounded last 
night, madam, in a little brush with your brave coun- 
tryman, general Marion. 

"Now only think of that, general! And besides, 
when he was going away, what do you think he did? 
Why, sir, he sent for me and said, Weil, my good 
madam, and what shall I pay you for all the trouble 
we have given you, and also for taking care of the 
doctor I am going to leave v/ith you, and the sick peo- 
ple, who may be on your l>ands for a fortnight yet? 

" I told him it was no business of mine to fix a price. 

" He seemed surprised, and asked me Vi'hat I meant 
Dy that. 

" I answered that I was now all one as his prisoner^ 
and prisoners had nothing they could call their own. 

"My king, said he, madam, does not make war 
against widows. 

" I told him I wished to God all his countrymen had 
remembered that I it would have saved the hunger and 
nakedness, and cries and tears of many a poor widow 
and orphan. At this he seemed mightily hurt. 

'• I then told him tli.it many of the British ofHcers, 
after eating and drinking all that they wanted, for 
themselves and people, and horses, instead of turn- 
ing round to paij^ as he had done, kad turned in to 
■fjlujider^ and then set fire to the houses, not leaving 
the widows and children a cover over their heads, 
Dor a bit of bread for their mouths, nor a stitch of 
clothes for their backs. 

" My God ! said he, and is this the way that my 
countrym.en have come here to carry on war ! Well 
madam, (so he went on,) my king does not know any 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. t7l 

thing of this, nor does the English nation, I am sure, 
[f they did, they %vouM certainly call those officers to 
Account. Such men will ruin our cause. For the 
word of God assures us, that his ear is always open 
to the cry of the widow and orphan ; and believe me, 
madam, I dread their cry more than I do the shouts 
of an enemy's army, Hovrever, madam, (continued 
he,) I have not a moment to lose, for I am sure 
general Marion is pursuing me as hard as he can, so 
let me know wiiat I owe you. 

"I told him again, I made no charge ; but since he 
was so good as to insist on giving me something, I 
begged to leave the matter entirely to himself. Upon 
which, after a moment's study, he looked at me and 
said, Well, madam, suppose we say sixpence stt^rling 
;>pie»ce man and horse, all around, will that do ? I 
replied that v/as too much, a great deal too much, for 
such a poor bi>eakfast as I had given him and his 
men. Not a pciwy too much^ madani^ said he, /ii'c* and 
let live is the royal law, madam, and here's your mo- 
ney. With that he put all these guineas here, into 
my hand! and said moreover, that if the doctor and 
sick people should be longer with me, and give nie 
more trouble and cost than we had counted on, then i 
must sena a note to him, at such a house in Charles- 
ton, and he would send me the money. And now, 
. general, would it not be a burning shame to go kill 
such a dear good gentleman as that?" 

P/Iarion listened v/ith delight to the old lady's his- 
tory of this amiable omcer ; but on her leaving him 
to hasten our breakfast, he looked very pensive, and 
at a loss what to do. However, as soon as the troops 
were refreshed, he ordered my brother, colonel H. 
Horry, who led the advance, to remount, and push 
after the enemy with all speed. We ibliowed close 
in the rear. For an hour the general did not open 
Kis mouth, but rode on like one absorbed in thought. 
At length heaving adeep sigh, he said " Well, I sup» 



ira THE LlFK OF 

pose I feel now very much as I should feel, were X 
m jjursuit of a brother to kill him." 

About three oYlock our advance came up with the 
enemy, near the wealthy and hospitable captain John 
Singleton's mills, where the firing instantly com« 
menced, and was as spiritedly returned by the BritisK 
still retreating. Our marksmen presently stopped oni 
of iVIuckle worth's captains, and several of his mer., 
who lay dead on the ground at the very spot where 
we happened to join the advance. The sight of these 
poor fellows lying in their blood, gave the general's 
wavering mind the casting vote in favour of generosi- 
ty ; for he immediately cried out, ''^Call off the troops ! 
call off the troops .'" Then turning to his aid he said, 
*' I cannot stand it any longer ; we owe yon English- 
men to our injured country ; but there is an angel 
that guards them. Ten righteous Lots would have 
saved Sodom. One generous Muckle worth shall save 
this handful. Let us turn and fight other enemies." 

The general's orders were quicklv passed on to the 
troops to cease firing. And to their credit be it 
spoken, they never, I believe, obeyed his orders with 
more alacrity than on this occasion. Indeed I heard 
many of them say, afterwards, that major Muckle- 
worth's generosity to their wounded comrades and 
to the poor widow, had so won tkeir hearts to him, 
that they had none left wherewith t^ fight against 
him ; and they said also, that, for their parts, they 
had rather kill a thousand such savages as Rawdon 
and Taileton, than hurt a hair of major Muckl&^ 
worth's head. 

From the effect produced on our troops, by this 
amia?de officer's conduct, I have been often led to 
think favourably of a saying common with Marion, 
viz. hf>>d the Bricish officers but acted as became a 
wise and magnanimous enemy, they might easily 
have recovered the revolted colonies. 

Never did the pulse of l-ove towards a parent state 
beat stronger in human hai?aiTJs than in those of the 



GEN. FRANCIS MARIOlNr. 173 

Carolinians towards Britain. We looked on her as 
indeed our mother, and on her children as our bro- 
thers. And ah ! had their government but treated 
us with corresponde-nt kindness, Carolina would have 
been with them to a man. Had they said to the peo- 
ple, as they might easily have done, (for there was 
time, and a long time too, when the whole state was 
entirely at their feet,) had they then said to us, " We 
are far richer, far stronger, than you ; we can easily 
burn your houses, take your provisions, carry off your 
cattle, and sweep your country with the besom of 
destruction ; but we abhor the idea. Your houses, 
your women, your children, are all sacred in our eyes ; 
and even of your goods we will touch nothing with- 
out giving you a reasonable price." Had they but 
said this, Carolina would, to a certainty, have been 
divorced from Congress, and re-wedded to Britain, 

We may lay what emphasis we please on the term 
countri/?ne?iy countrif77ien I but after all, as Christ says, 
" he is our countryman who showeth mercy unto us." 

A British officer, a major Muckle worth, for exam- 
ple, calls at my plantation, and takes my fine horses 
and fat beeves, my pigs, poultry and grain ; but at 
parting, launches out for me a fist full of yellow boys! 
On the ether hand, an American officer calls and 
sweeps me of every thing, and then lugs out a bundle 
of continental proc ! such trash, that hardly a cow 
would give a corn shock for a horse load of it. 

The Englishman leaves me richer than he found 
me, and abler to educate and provide for my chil- 
dren : the American leaves me and my family half 
ruined. Now I wish to know where, in such a self- 
ish world as this, where is there a man in a million, 
but would take part with the generous Englishman, 
and fight for him ? 

This was the theory of Marion ; and it was the. 
practice of Muckleworth, whom it certainly saved to 
the British ; and would, if universal, have saved Ca- 
?fc>lina and Georgia to them tooj aad perhaps, all 



tU THE LIFE OF 

America. But so little idea had they of this mode of 
conciliating' to conquer.^ that when the good majoi 
Muckleworth rtiturned to Charleston, he was hooted 
at by the British officers, who said he might do well 
enough for a chaplain, or a methodist preacher, for 
what they knew, but they'd be d — n — d if he were fit 
to be a British major. 

The truth is, such divine philosophy was too refined 
for such coarse and vulgar characters, as Cornwallis, 
Rawdon, Tarleton, Balfour, and Weymies ; monsters 
who disgraced the brave and generous nation they 
represented, and completely damned the cause they 
were sent to save. But what better was to have been 
expected of those, who, from early life, if tradition 
say true, discovered a total dislike to the ennobling 
pleasures of literature anJ devotion, hut a boundless 
passion for the brutalizing sports of the bear-garden 
and cockpit? Bull-baiters, cock-fighters, and dog 
worriers, turned officers, had no idea of conquering 
the Americans, but by " cutting their throats or 
knocking out their brains ;" or as the tender hearted 
Cornwallis commanded, by "hanging them, and tak- 
ing away, or destroying their goods." 

Now iSatan himself could have counselled my lorci: 
better than that; as any msn vci2i.j see^ who will bu3^ 
open his bible and turn to the bo^ok of Job, chap, tk- 
1st, verse 6th, and so on. There Moses informs^ thas) 
when Satan, whose effrontery is up to any thin^. pre' 
sented himself at the grand levee, the Almighty vory 
civilly asked him, (now mind thai, saints, in youjf 
speech to poor sinners) — the Almighty, I say, verj 
civilly asked him " where he had been of late." 

To this, his royal highness, the brimstone king, re- 
plied, that he had been only ta.king a turn or two *' up 
and down the earth." 

The divine voice again interrogated : " Hast thou 
«.onsidered my servant Job ? an excellent man, is hf 
not ; one who ieareth God and escheweth evil ?" 

" Job's well enough," replied Satan^ rather pertly 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 1/5 

*' but where's the wonder of Al that ? You have done 
great things for the fellow ; you have planted a hedge 
around him, and around all that he hath on every side. 
You have blessed the works of his hands, and his 
substance is increased in the land ; and if, after all 
this, he cannot afford you a little gratitude, he must 
be a poor devil indeed. j3ut put forth thine hand iiow^ 
iind touch all that lie hath^ and he'' II curse thee to thy 
faceP 

This was the deviPs logic as to ]oh : but the British 
general had not the wit to reason in that style towards 
the Americans. Fur my lord Cornwallis said unto 
my lord Rawdon ; and my lord Rawdon said unto 
my ivould-be lord, colonel Tarleton; and colone) 
Tarleton said unto major Weymies ; and m.ajor 
Weymies said unto Will Cunningham, and imto the 
British soldiers with their tory negro allies ; ^' Put 
forth your hands, boys, and burn, and plunder the 
d-n-d rebels ; and instead of cursing you to your face, 
they will fall down and kiss your feet.'' 

" Experieace," says Doctor Franklin, '* is a drar 
school: hut fools will learn in no other, and hardly 
in that.^' And what right had lord North to expect 
success in America, when for oPiicers he sent such 
fools as would take no lesson either from God or devil. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Colonel Watsmi aitemt)ts to surprise ^larion-^^is oitt- 
generated^ and after much losa driven back to George" 
t07vn, 

IN consequence of his incessant attacks on the 
British and tories, Marion was, I believe, heartily 
hated hv them, as ever Sampson v/as by the Philis- 
tines, "JT George White field by the devil. Nutiierous 
were tL^ attempts made by their best officers to sur- 
prise him ; but such was his ovv'n vigilance and the 
] fidelity of his whig; friends^ that )ie seldom failed ^o 



176 THE LIFE OF 

get the first blow at them, and to take their unwary 
feet in the same evil net which they had spread for him. 
His methofJ to anticipate the meditated malice of 
his enemies, is well worthv of notice. He always had 
in his service a parcel of active young men, generally 
selected from the best whig families, and of tried 
courage and fidelity. Tliese, mounted on the swiftest 
horses, he v/ould station in the neighbourhood of those 
places where the British and tories were embodied in 
force, as Camden, Georgetown, &c. with instructions 
to leave no stratagem untried to find out the intended 
movements of the enemy. Instantly as this informa- 
tion was obtained, (whether by climbing tall trees 
that overlooked the garrisons, or ixova friench acting 
as market people) they were to mount and push oif 
at full speed to the nearest of a chain of posts estab- 
lished at short and convenient distances, with fleet 
horses ready saddled and bridled, to bear the intelli- 
gence with equal speed, the first to the second, the 
second to the third, and so on. In this expeditious? 
method, as by a telegraph, Marion was presently no 
tified of the designs of the enemy. Of the exceeding 
importance of such a plan, we had a very striking 
proof at this time. Exasperated against Marion, for 
the infinite harm he did the royal cause in Carolina, 
the British general, in Camden, determined to surprise 
him at his old place of retreat, Snow's Island; and 
thus destroy or oreak him up completely. To this end 
he despatched a couple of favourite ofHcers, colonels 
Watson and Doyle, with a heavy force, both cavaln' 
and infantry, to seize the lower bridge on Black river 
and thereby eifectually prevent our escape. But the 
vigilance and activity of his scouts frustrated thisi 
well-concerted plan entiiely. Ciettirg early notice of 
this manoeuvre by captain, now general Canty, Ma- 
Hon instantly started his troops, composed chiefly of 
mounted riflemen and light dragoons, and pushed hard 
for the same point. By taking a nearer cut, v/e had 
the good fortune to gain the bridge before the enemv^ 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 17f 

and having destroyed it as soon as we crossed, we 
concealed ourselves in the dark swamp, anxiously 
waiting their arrival. In a short time, they came in 
full view on the opposite hill, and there encamped.— 
Presently, unapprchen&,ve of danger, for they saw 
nothing of us, two of their men came down for water 
to the river. Unable to resist such a temptation, two 
of our noted marksmen instantly drew their sights and 
let fly. The two Englishmen fell ; one of them was 
killed dead ; the other badly v^ounded, and so fright- 
ened, that he bellovv'ed like a bull-calf for help. Seve- 
ral of his gallant comrades ran to his assistance, but 
they were shot down as fast as they got to him. 

The next morning colonel Watson sent a flag over 
to Marion, whom he charged witln carrying on war in 
, a manner entirely different from all civilized nations. 
I " Why sir," said he to Marion, " you must certainly 
( command a horde of savages, who delight in nothing 
j but murder. I can't cross a swamp or a bridge, but I 
I am waylaid and shot at as if I were a mad dog. 
I Even my sentries are iired at and killed on their 
I posts. Why, my God, sir ! this is not the way that 
Christians ought to fight !" 

To this Marion replied, that " he was sorry to be 
obliged to say, that from what he had knov/n of them, 
the British officers were the last men on earth who 
I had any right to preach about iionour and humanity. 
I'hat for men to come three thousand miles to plun- 
der and hang an innocent people, and then to tell that 
peijple lio^u theij ou^ht tofig^Iit^ betrayed an ignorance 
and impudence which he fain would hope had no pa- 
rallel in the history of man. That for his part, he al- 
ways believed, and still did believe that he should be 
iloing God and his country good service to surprise 
and kill such men, while they continued this diaboli- 
cal warfare, as he would the v/oives and panthers of 
the forest." 

Thus ended the correspondence for that time. 
« While things remained in this state between the 



J^?8 THE LIFE OF 

hostile parties, Macdonald, as usual, was employing 
himself in a close and bold reconnoitre of the enemy's 
camp. Having found out the situation of their sen- 
tries, and the times of relieving them, he climbed up 
into a bushy tree, and thence, with a musket loaded 
with pistol bullets, cracked away at their guard 
as they passed by; of whom he killed one man, and 
badly wounded the lieutenant, whose name was Tor- 
quano ; then sliding down the tree, he mounted his 
swift-footed Selim, and made his escape. 

The next morning colonel Watson sent another flag 
to Marion, requesting that he would grant a passport 
to his lieutenant Torquano, who was badly wounded, 
and wished to be carried to Charleston. On receiving 
the flag, which happened while I was by him, Marion 
turned to me, and with a smile said, " Well, this note 
of colonel Watson looks a little as if he were coming 
to his senses. But who is lieutenant Torquano ?" 

I replied that he was a young Englishman, who had 
been quartered in Charleston, at the house of that 
good whig lady, Mrs. Bnainford and her daughters, 
whom he had treated very politely, and often pro- 
tected from insults. 

" Well," said he, "if that be lieutenant Torquano, he 
must be a very clever fellow ; and shall certainly have 
a passport to Charleston, or even to Paradise, if I 
had the keys of St. Peter." 

On repassing Black river in haste, Macdonald had 
left his clothes behind him at a poor woman's house, 
where the enemy seized them. By the return of the 
flag just mentioned, he sent word to colonel Watson^ 
that if he did not immediately send back his clothes, 
he would kill eight of his men to pay for them. 

Several of Watson's officers who were present when 
«he message was delivered, advised him by all ineana 
to return his clothes, for that they knew him to be a 
most desperate fellozv, one who would stop at nothing 
he set his head uponj witness his late daring act ol 



GEN'. FRANCIS MARION. 179 

♦limbing like a cougar, into a tree, to kill his passing 
enemies. V/atson sent him back his wallet of clothes. 

Soon after this, the enemy decamped silently in 
cne night, and took the road towards Santee. On the 
return of day announcing their flight, Marion order- 
ed me to take the mounted rifiem.en, thirty in number, 
with fifty horse, and pursue and harass the enemy as 
much as possible, till he could come up with the in- 
fantry. 

Aiaout night I approached their encampment, and 
halted ma neighbouring sv/amp ; whence I continued 
to send out small parties, frequently relieved, with 
orders to pop away at their sentinels, and keep them 
alarmed and under arms all night. At daybreak 
they pushed bard for the sandpit bridge. We follow- 
ed close in the rear, constantly firing on them from 
every thicket and swamp ; and often, in spite of their 
field pieces, making false charges. Never did I see 
a body of infantry ply their legs so briskly. The 
rogues were constantly in a dog trot, except when they 
occasionally halted to give us a blast, which they did 
from their whole line. But though their bullets made 
a confounded whizzing and clatter among the branches 
over our heads, yet thar.k God they did no harm, save 
that of scratching some three or four of us. 

On coming within a few miles of it, we made a 
rapid push for the bridge, v/hich v/e quickly rendered 
impassable, by throwing off the plank and sleepers. 
ITien having posted my riflem.en in the thick woods, 
within fifty yards of the ford, under command of 
lieutenant Scott, I drew up my cavalry close in the 
rear, and v/aited impatiently for the enemy, hoping to 
give a handsome Bunker's Kill account of them. 

The enen'iy were presently in sight, and formed in 
dose column, began to push through the fording 
place, though full waist deep. My heart now throb- 
bed with anxiety ; looking every moment for a stream 
of fire to burst upon the British, spreading destruction 
U:irough their ranks. 



180 THE LIFE OF 

But, to my infinite mortification, no lightnings 
bursted forth ; no thunders roared ; no enemy fell. 
As, half choked v/ith grief and rage, I looked around 
for the cause, behold ! my brave lieutenant Scott, at 
the head of the riflemen, came stooping- along with 
his gun in his hand, and the black marks of shame 
and cowardice on his sheepish face. " Infamous pOf 
troon^'* said I, shaking my sword over his head, 
^^ where is that hecatomb of robbers and murderers due 
to the vengeance of your injured country P^^ 

He began to stammer out some apology, which I 
quickly suppressed, by ordering him out of my sight. 
It is worthy of remark, that his men, instead of apo- 
logising for him, called him a coward to his face, and 
declared that it was he who had restrained them by 
telling them they were flanked by the enemy, who 
would assuredly cut them to pieces if they fired a shot. 

As the advance of the British were thus undisturb- 
edly passing on, a heavy firing was suddenly heard in 
the rear. It was Marion ; who, having come up with 
the enemy, had attacked him with great fury. The 
British did not halt, but continued a running fight 
through the woods till they gained the open fields; 
where, by means of their artillery, they kept us at a 
distance. In this rencontre, Watson had his horse kill- 
ed under him, and left about twenty of his men dead 
on the ground. His wounded filled several wagons. 

He did not halt a moment, but pushed hard for 
Georgetown ; and late at night encamped on the 
plantation of Mr. Trapier, to whom he told a dread- 
ful story about Marion and his damned rebels^ who 
would not, as he said, sleep and fight like gentlemen^ 
but, like savages, were eternally firing and whooping 
around him by night; and by day, waylaying and 
popping at him from behind every tree he went by. 

As it was too late to pursue the enemy, Marion 
encamped for the night near the field of battle, and 
next morning marched for his old post. Snow's Island^ 
whei^e hi? allowed us a few days of welcome repose. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION, iSl 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

f\j>inctifm of 3Irs. Jenkins — colonel Watson^ colonel 
Doyle^, (I *id the tor'ics^ make alarming advances uton 
general . Clarion — his men begin to desert him — A?r- 
ry turns orator^ and harangues the troops — they re- 
peat theii assurances of patriotism and attachment to 
Marion-" 'he dashes out again upon the enemy — pros 
fitects brighten — and the good old cause begins to 
look lip ai^ain. 

ST was not for the British and Marion to lie long 
itk rest in tlie same neighbourhood. After a short 
rcj^ose, colouel Watson, with a stout force of regulars 
and tories, made an inroad upon Pedee ; which was 
no sooner krown in our camp, than Marion pushed 
after him. We presently struck their trail ; and after 
a liandsome day's run, pitched our tents near the 
house of the excellent widow Jenkins, and on the very 
spot which the British had left in the morning. Co 
lonel Watson, it seems, had taken his quarters that 
night in her house ; and learning that she had three 
sons with Marion, all active young men, he sent for 
her after supper, and desired her to sit down and take 
a glass of wine with him. To this request, a good 
old lady of taste and manners could have no objec- 
tion : so waiting upon the colonel, and taking a chair 
which he handed her, she sat down and emptied her 
glass to his health. He then commenced the follow- 
ing conversation with her. 

" So, madam, they tell me you have several sons in 
general Marion's camp ; I hope it is not true." 

She said it was very true, and was only sorry that 
it was not a thousand times truer. 

'' A thousand times truer, madam /" replied he with 
great surprise, ^^pray what can be your meaning in 
that r' 

" Why, sir, I am only sorry that in place of three^ 
l have not three thousand svns with general Marion." 

^^ Aye indevd> v/ell then madam, begging your 



t92 THE LIFE OF 

pardon, you had better send for them immcdiatdf^ 
to come in and join his majesty's troops under m}f' 
command ; for as they are rebels now in arms aji^ainst 
their king, should they be taken they will be hung as 
sure as ever thev were born." 

" Why, sir," said the old lady, " you are very con- 
siderate of my sons; for which at any rate I thank 
you. But, as you have begged my pardon for giving 
me this advice, I must beg yours for not taking it. 
My sons, sir, are of age, and must and will act for 
themselves. And as to their being in a state of re- 
bellion against their king^ I must take the liberty, sir, 
to deny thatP 

*'^What^ madam C'' replied he, ";?of in rebellion 
against their king ? shooting at and killing his majes- 
ty's subjects like wolves ! don't you call that rebellion 
against their king, madam ?" 

" No, sir," answered she : " they are only doing 
iheir duty^ as God and nature commanded them, sir." 

" The d — / theu are^ madam /" 

" Yes, sir," continued she, •'' and what you and 
every man in England would glory to do against the 
King, were he to dare to tax you contrary to your 
own consent and the constitution of the realm. 'Tis 
the king, sir, v/ho is in rebellion against my sons, and 
not they against him. And could right prevai 
against might, he would as certainly lose his head, as 
ever king Charles the First did." 

Colonel Watson could hardly keep his chair under 
the smart of this speech : but thinking it v»^oald never 
do for a British colonel to be rude to a lady, he filled 
her glass, and saying, "he'd be d — n — d if she were 
not a veiy plain-spoken woman at any rate," insisted 
she would drink a toast with him for all. 

She replied she had no objection. 

Tlien filling the glasses round, he looked at hi^r 
with a constrained smile, and said, " Well, madam^ 
-re's George the Thirty 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 183 

^ Wl^ all my heart, sir !" and turned ofFher buni» 
p^tc* wivli a good grace. 

Atter a decent interval of sprightly conversation 
he called on the widow for a toast; who very smartly 
retorted, '" S¥ell, sir^ here's George Washington /" At 
which he c^ar^ened a little, but drank it off with an 
officer-lik^i poHieness. 

The next moining early, we left the good Mrs, 
Jenkins ; and buniijjig with impatience to give Wat- 
son another racey v*c drove on Jehu-like. 

We encamped tnat night almost within sight of the 
enemy's fires : but foi^iid them too much on the alert 
for surprise. We kept, nowever, a good look out, and 
learning next morninf> . tliat a roosting party were out, 
, Marion detached my brother colonel Horry, with 
1 some choice cavaliers, to talack them ; which he did 
j with such spirit, that at the iirst onset he killed nine,, 
I and made the balance, sixaeen, all pri.soners. The 
( rogues were so ovcrloade^l! with plunder that for 
their lives they could not rcvv^tin their camp, thoug'h 
i in full view of it v,'hcn the\ were charged. This 
I brilliant stroke of my brother, threw the enemy's 
camp into the utmost hurry and uproar ; and their 
dragoons were quickly mounred, dashing out to res- 
cue their comrades ; but in vain, for my brother 
brought them, all oiT in safety to our camp. 

Our strength at this time was far inferior to that oJt 
the enemy. But it soon became alarmingly reduced. 
For learning that, besides this heavy force under 
Watson, there v/as another from Camden under colo- 
nel Doyle, and also of mounted tories from Pedee, 
all in full march against us, our men took a panic and 
began to desert, and those who staid behind looked 
very serious, and talked as if certain ruin both to 
themselves and fam.ilies vv-^ould follow from their con- 
tinuing to light in so hopeless a cause. 

In answer to these desponding gentlemen, I re^^ 
plied, that I was ashamed and grieved too, to h&ax 
!hfim talk at that rate. 
R 



184 THE LIFfe OF 

" OurpYOspecU^'* said I, " gentlemen, are to be sure 
dark, very dark ; yet thank God, they are not despe- 
rate. We have often before now seen as heavy 
clouds hanging- over us ; and yet with heaven's bless- 
ing on our arms those clouds have been dispersedy 
and golden days restored. And who knows but we 
may shcrdy see it so again ? I am sure we have good 
reason to expect itj and also to hope that God will 
assist us, who are only lighting to make ourselves 
free and happy, according to his own most blessed 
will. And will it not be a most sweet cordial to your 
spirits as long as you live, to think that, in such try- 
ing times as these, you stood up for your country, 
and fought and won for yourselves and children ail 
the blessings of liberty. 

" And, besides," said I, " do not the tories, who 
are more than half the authors of your misfortunes, 
possess large estates ? And have you not arms in your 
hands, wherewith to pay yourselves out of theii ill- 
saved treasur.es V 

This speech seemed to raise their spirits a good deal. 

I then went to see the general, who with his hands 
behind him, was walking backwards and forwards in 
front of his tent, meditating no doubt on the deser- 
tion of his men ; whose numbers, from more than two 
hundred, v/ere now reduced to less than seventy. 

" General Marion," said I, " I am sorry to tell you 
that our men are v.ow so fexv ; especially since, ac- 
cording to report, we shall soon want so vianijP 

" Why," replied he, " that is the very thing I have 
been grieving at ; but it will signify nothing for us to 
stand here sighing and croaking ; so pray go and or- 
der a muster of the men, that I may say a few words 
to them before they all run off and leave me." 

Soon as the troops were all paraded around the 
door of his tent, he stepped upon the trunk of a fall- 
en pmc, and in his plain but impressive manner, ad' 
dressed us nearly as follows ;■— 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. IBS 

•* Gentlemen and fdloiv-soldters. 

" It is not for words to express what I feel when I 
look around upon your diminished numbers. Yester- 
day I commanded 200 men ; men whom I gloried in^ 
and who I fondly thought, would have followed me 
thtoagh my dangers for their country. And, now, 
when their country most n-jxds their services, they 
are nearly all gone i And even those of you who re- 
main, are, if report be true, quite out of heart ; and 
talk, that you and your families must be ruined if you 
resist any longer ! But, my friends, if we shall be 
ruined for bravely resisting our tyrants, what will be 
done to us if we tamely lie down and submit to them \ 
In that event, what can we expect but to see our own 
eternal disgrace, and the wide-spread ruin of our 
country ; when our bravest and best citizens shall be 
hung up like dogs, and .heir property confiscated to 
enrich those villains wno deserted tb.eir country, and 
joined her enemies ; when Cornwallis, Rawdon, and 
Tarleton, after so long plundering and murdering 
your friends, shall, in reward of such services, be set 
Dver you as your governors and lord lieutenants, with 
princely salaries out of your labours; when foreign 
. bishops and their hireling clergy shall be poured 
upon you like hosts of consecrated locusts, consuming 
the tithes and fat of the land ; when British princes, 
and nobles, and judges, shall swarm over your devot- 
ed country, thick as eagles over a new-fallen carcass ; 
when an insatiate king, looking en your country as 
his plantation, and on your children as his slaves, 
shall take away your substance, every year, for his 
pomps and pleasures ; and to keep you under for ever, 
shall Ml your land with armies ; and when those ar- 
mies, viewing you v/ith malignant eyes, shall constant- 
ly be insulting you as conquered rebels ; and under 
pretence of discovering among you the seeds of ano- 
ther rebellion, shall be perpetually harassing and 
giving up to military execution the best and worthiest 
of your fellow-citizens \ 



t^ THE LIFE OF 

*' Now my brave brethren in arms, is there a mau 
among you, v/ho can bear the thought of living to see 
his dear country and friends in so degraded and 
wretched a state as this ? If there be, then kt that 
man leave me and retire to his home. I ask not his 
aid. But, thanks to God, I have, now no fears about 
you: judging by your looks, I feel that there is no 
such man among us. For my owd part I look upon 
such a state of things as a thousand times worse than 
death. And God is my judge this day, that if I 
could die a thousand deaths, most gladly Vv^ould I die 
them all, rather tiinn live to see my dear country in 
such a state of degradation and wretchedness.'' 

In reply to this speech of our honoured general, we 
told him, in brief, it was on account of his noble sen- 
timents we had always so highly esteemed him ; that 
it was on account of these we had already suffered so 
much, and were ready to suffer more ; and that rather 
than see our country in that wretched state which he 
had so feelingly described, and which, with him, v/e 
firmly believed would be the case if the British were 
to get the upper hand, we had made up our minds to 
fight by his side to a glorious death. 

I never saw such a change on the face of a human 
being, as then took place on tliat of Marion. His 
eyes sparkled with pleasure, while in transport he 
exclaimed — ••' Vv^ell, now colonel Doyle, look sharp, 
for you shall presently feel the edge of our swords.'' 

Soon as night came on we mounted, and took the 
swamps of Lynche's creek, though swimm.ing deep, 
and after a long tim.e spent in plunging and splashing 
through the dark floods, we got over, at least about 
two-thirds of us. The rest, driven down by the force 
of the current, were cast ashore on hills and high 
banks, which by the freshet were converted into 
islands ; and there they continued whooping and hal- 
looing to each other all night. When the welcome 
4- light returned, they plunged again into the furious 
stream, and though swept down a good way bv thfr 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 18? 

force of the current, arrived safely on our side, where 
we had prepared some largr: fires to dry their clothes 
and muskets, and plenty of roasted roots and Indian 
cakes for breakfast. 

As God was pleased to have it, none of us lost our 
lives, though many did their great coats, blankets, and 
saddles, and some few their pieces. As to myself, I 
must needs say, I was never so near the other v/orld 
in my life. For, as we were borne along down the 
stream in the dark, mv horse and I were carried un- 
der the limb of a tree hung thick with wild vines, 
which soon caught me by the head like Absalom, and 
there held me fast, dangling in the furious flood, while 
my horse was swept from under me. I hallooed for 
some time like a lusty fellov/, without getting any an- 
swer, which made me begin to think my chance was 
bad. And, God forgive me for it ! I could not help 
thinking it a sad thing, that after so many fierce frays 
and hard knocks vnth the British and tories, I should 
come at last to be choked like a blind puppy, in this 
dirty swamp : but God be praised for his good angel^ 
who had brought me through six dangers, and now 
took me out of the seventh. For, as I was near giv' 
ing out, a bold young fellow of the company over- 
heard me bav/ling, and having the advantage of a stout 
horse, dashed in and took me safely oft. 

I was afraid at first that my horse was drowned — 
but sagaciously following the rest of the horses, he 
made his way good, but lost my saddle, great coat, 
and clothes. But what grieved me most of all was 
the loss of my holsters, with a pair of elegant silver 
mounted pistols, a present from Macdonald, and 
which he had taken from a British oificer whom he 
killed near Georgetown. 

Soon as our firearms were dried, and ourselves and 
horses well refreshed, we mounted and rode hard all 
that day, to surprise colonel Doyle. About midnight 
we had approached the house of a good whig, who 
lold us thatDoisde had been there, but that v/arned by 



188 THE LIFE OF 

an express from CamaeR,he had started in great liaste, 
and was certainly by that time far beyond our reach. 
We wej'e much puzzled in our minds for the mean- 
ing of this precipitate retreat of colonel Doyle ; how- 
ever, after one day of welcome rest and high cheer, 
we faced about, fully determined, notwithstanding our 
inferiority of force, once more to try our fortune with 
colonel Watson. But in reaching the ground where 
we had left him encamped, we got advice that he too, 
with all his troops, were gone off, at a tangent, as 
hard as he could drive. While we were wondering 
what could have possessed the British to scamper 
thus in every direction, captain Conyers, of Lee's le- 
gion, hove in sight, with the welcome news that the 
brave colonel Lee was at hand, coming up full tilt to 
join us ; and also that general Green, with a choice 
detachment from the great Washington, was bending 
towards Camden, to recover the laurels which the in- 
cautious Gates had lost. These glorious tidings at 
once explained the cause of the enemy's flight, and 
inspired us with a joy which the reader can better 
coiKeive than I express. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

MariorCs method of managing the militia — sends the 
author en another expedition against the tories — 
anecdote of Mr. F. Kinloch — curious dream of black 
Jonathan^ and fortunate escape of Mr. Kinloch — the 
author^s party surprised by the jBriiish, but come off 

' with flying colours. 

THE world, perhaps, never contained a partisan 
officer who better understood the management of 
militia than did 'general Marion. He was never foi 
dragooning a m-an into the service. ''''God loves a 
cheerful giver ^ and so do /," said he, *'^ a iviirvig sol- 
dier. To have him such you must convince him that 
it is his interest, for interest is QwtYyia^'i pole star 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 

Every man wishes to be happy, and thereto wishes 
a happy wife and child];-en, a happy country and 
friends. Convince him that all these invaluable 
blessings cannot be had without siveet liberty^ and 
you shall have a soldier as brave as Washington. — 
For no man, worthy of the name, could ever yet bear 
to see his wife, ciiildren and friends, enslaved and 
miserable/' Such was Marion's method of making 
soldiers. And what with this, and the cruelty of the 
British and tories, he had with him, perhaps, some of 
as brave and desperate men as ever fought. 

" Never ride a free horse to death," he used to say 
to his officers ; " push, while he is fresh, but soon as 
he begins to lag, then lie by and feed high is your play." 

For this purpose he always kept a snug hiding- 
place in reserve for us ; which was Snov/'s Island, a 
most romantic spot, and admirably fitted to our use. 
Nature had guarded it, nearly all around, with deep 
waters and inaccessible marshes; and the neighbour- 
ing gentlemen were ail rich, and hearty whigs, who 
acted by us the double part of generous stewards and 
faithful spies, so that, while there, we lived at once 
in safety and plenty. 

We bad reposed ourselves but two days in the. 
pleasant wilds of Snow's Island, before Marion, learn- 
ing that a part of the enemy were in the neighbour- 
hood, desired me to take captains Clarke and Irvin, 
with fifty men, and try if I could not bring him a 
good account of them. 

We encamped the iirst night on the plantation of 
Mr. John Withers, where hearing that Mr. F. Kin- 
loch, our member of Congress, was at a neighbouring 
house, I sent him the following note. 

Honourable Sir, 

If in these dangeious times you can think yourselt 
safe among a handful of militia-men, I shall be very 
glad to see you at our camp. As to supper, thank 
God we can give you a trencher of fat pork and po- 



190 THE LIFE OF 

tatoes, but for bed and furniture, we can promise you 
nothing better than earth and sky. I shall place a 
sentinel on the road to conduct you to, 
Honourable Sir, your friend, 

Peter Horry. 

Mr. Kinloch, who was one of the cleverest men in 
the world, instantly set out to come to us, but unluck- 
ily missed our sentinel, and went several miles belou- 
us to Mr. Alexander Rose's plantation, managed bv 
a mulatto driver named j onathan. The day being 
nearly spent, Jonathan very politely urged Mr. Kin 
loch to alight and spend the night there, promisinghim 
a xuarm supper and 2l good bed. Mr. Kinloch accept- 
ed Jonathan's offer very cheerfully, and after taking 
part of a nice fowl and a cup of coffee, went to bed. 
He had not slept long before Jonathan waked him up, 
and, with great terror in his looks, told him, " he was 
mighty 'fraid there was harm a brewing." 

" Aye, Jonathan! why so, my good Jad ?" 

" Oh, sir," replied Jonathan, •■' such a dream as I 
have had, sir! a mxarvellous bad dream about the 
enemy's coming upon you to-night, sir !" 

" Poh !" quoth Mr. Kinloch, turning himself over 
for another nap : I have dreamed nothing about it, 
Jonathan. And I'm sure such a dream ouglit to have 
com.e to me, and not to you ; so we'll even go to sleep 
again, and trust to heaven." 

Accordingly he fell asleep a second time ; but had 
not long enjoyed that sweetest of opiates, before 
Jonathan comes again, and awakes him v/ith the old 
story of his dream. 

" Well, Jonathan," said Mr. Kiiiloch, very good- 
naturedly, " if you are determined to turn me out of 
doors, I suppose I must go. But where can I get to 
this time of night ?" 

" Why," sir, quoth Jonathan, " I'll get your horse 
and go with you to the main road, sir, and from the 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION 191 

you can't miss your way back to the house you came 
from this afternoon." 

On Jonathan's return from the short distance he 
had conducted Mr. Kinloch, he found the yard fdled 
with the British light horse! 

These dreams are drojl thing.". ; but they some- 
times come so well attested, that there is no doubting 
them. Ke who made our frame, can certainly speak 
to us as well asleep as awake ; and the wise will feel 
the importance of making a friend of Him, who can 
cause an airy dream to defend us as effectually as a 
legion of angels. 

The next night, just as we were about to encamp, 
we lighted on a negro fellow, belonging to Mr. Joseph 
Alston, whom I quickly had by the heels, lest he 
should give intelligence to the enemy. But, as the 
devil would have it, just before day, the sergeant of 
the guard, overcome by the negro's importunities, 
loosened him and let him go. And, mark now, young 
officers, what conies from disobeying orders. This 
villain of a blackamoor had not gone above three 
miles before he fell in with the British, to whom, 
Judas-like, he betrayed us oif hand! and they as 
quickly took horse, and pushed on to surprise us. 

By sunrise I had all my men mounted; captain 
Clarke leading the advance, myself and captain Irvin 
bringing up the rest of the corps. 

The British first discovered captain Clarke, which 
they did in the way of a glimpse, through an opening 
in the woods; then sounding their bugles, they rush- 
ed on to the charge. Unfortunately, Clarke had not 
yet seen the enemy, and mistaking their bugles for 
the huntsmen's horns, ordered a halt to see the deer 
go by. But instead of a herd of flying deer, behold * 
a column of British cavalry all at once bursting into 
the road, and shouting and rushing on with drawn 
swords to the chanr^. In a moment, as :f themselves 
metamorphosed into deer, Clarke and his advance 



192 THE LIFE OF 

wheeled about, and giving their horses " the tim 
Der,"* flew back upon our main l^ody, roaring out as 
they came in sight — " The British ! the British !" 

Quick as thought my men caught the panic, and 
facing about, took to their heels, and went olT as if thts 
d — 1 had been behind them. I bav/led after them <ts 
loud as I could roar, " Hah I Halt /" but I might as 
well have bawled to the whirlwinds, for it appeared 
^o me the louder I bawled, the swifter the rascals 
flew. Whereupon I clapped spurs to my young 
Janus, and went off after them at full stretch, hoping 
to gain their front and so bring them to. Being 
■mounted on a young full-blooded charger, fresh and 
strong from the stable, I bid fair to gain my point too. 
for I was coming up with them hand over hand.— 
But, in that very juncture of time, as the Lord was 
pleased to order it, my girth gave way, my saddle 
turned, and my charger fetching a ground start, threw 
me, saddle, holsters, and all, full ten feet over his 
head^ and then ran off. I received no harm, God be 
praised for it, but recovering my legs in an instant, 
bawled out again to my men to halt and form. 

Happily for me, at the very moment of my dis- 
aster, the enemy, suspecting our flight to be only a 
iinesse, had halted, while only sixteen dragoons un- 
der colonel Camp, continued the chase. 

Scorning to fly from such a handful, some of my 
more resolute fellows, thirteen in number, faced 
about, and very deliberately taking their aim at th« 
enemy as they came up, gave them a spanker^ which 
killed upwards of half their number. The rest took 
to flight, leaving their colonel, vv^hose horse was slain, 
to shift for himself, which he quickly did by running 
into the woods. 

♦ This 16 a Carolina plu'ase for slashmg. If aliusband should so 
lar forget himself as to beat his vv-^it'e ! w-liicii, thank God, is vci^ 
rare, his neigh.bours, with great sconi, say of hun as he pokes li:s 
h3ted face along, Aye, that's the jockey that gives iiis wife the 
timber. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 193 

ySits British were so near us when they received 
rile fire of my men, that one of them, a stout fellow, 
as he wtiecled to go off, came so close to me, where 
I stood on the ground, that he was lifting his hroad 
sword for a hack-handed stroke, which would proba- 
bly have Favcd me the trouble of writing this history, 
had I not, w\ch one of my pistols, which I took from 
the saddle wtien my horse left me, anticipated his* 
kindness, by driving a bullet through his shoulder, 
wnich brought him to the ground. Then mounting 
his horse, while my men caught the horses of thoGe 
that were killed, we galloped oif, very well satisfied 
that the affair had turned out no worse. 

On returning to Marion, I could not help com- 
plaining to him of my men, whose behaviour, I said, 
111 this last affair, had been so very dastardly, that I 
was much afraid, I should never again put confidence 
\n them, nor gain any credit by commanding them. 
"Pshaw!" said he, with a smile, "it is because you 
do not understand the management of them : you 
command militia ; it will not do to expect too much 
from that sort of soldiers. If, on turning out against 
^e enemy, yoa find your men in high spirits, with 
Jiurning eyes all kindling around you, that's your time • 
then in close columns, with sounding bugles and 
«hining swords, dash on, and I'll warrant your men 
will follow you, eager as the lion's whelps bounding 
with their sire to the chase of the buffaloes. But on 
the other hand, if by any unlooked-for providence 
they get dismayed, and begin to run, you are not to 
fly in a passion with them, and show yourself as mad 
lis they are cov/ardly. No ! you must learn to run 
too: and as fast as they; n^y faster, that you may 
get into the front, and encourage them to rally. 

" And a.5 to the credit that you are to get by com- 
manding them, I find, my dear fellow, that you are 
entirely in the wrong there also. Our country can- 
not expect us to cope with British regulars. War is 
an art, the deepest of ail artSj because the greatest of 



/94 THE LIFE OF 

allea/thl)^ coii.seqaences depend on it. And none can 
expect to be masters of that terrible art, but such as 
serve a long apprenticeship to it. But as we have 
served no apprenticeship, we can knov/ but little 
about it in comparison with our enemies, who in dis- 
cipline and experience have greatly the advantage of 
us. But, thank God, we have oiu* advantap-es too.- — 
We are far better riders, better woodsmen, and bet- 
ter marksmen than they. These are noble advan- 
tages. Let us but improve them by redoubled acti- 
vity and vigilance, and kindness to our men, and 
especially by often conversing with them on the 
grounds of the war, the merits of our cause, and the 
vast consequences depending. Let us, I say, in this 
way, make them soldiers in principle, and fond of 
their officers, and all will be well yet. By cutting off 
the enemy's foraging parties, drav/ing them into am- 
buscades and falling upon them by surprise, we shall, 
I hope, so harass and consume them, as to make them 
glad to get out of our country. And then, the per- 
formance of such a noble act wdll bring us credit, and 
credit enough too, in the eyes of good men ; w^hile as 
to ourselves, the remembrance of having .done so 
much to vindicate the rights of man, and make pos- 
terity the happier for us, w^i^ alTord us a pleasure that 
may outlive this momentary beinq." 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 195 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Colonel Harry Leejovis gaieral Marion — Georgetoxvn 
surprued- — colonel Campbell made prisoner — majot 
Jrvifi killed — adjutant Crookshanks miraculously 
saved bif his siueet heart — -force of female affection 
— Am.erican generositij coiitrasted ivith British bar* 
barism—interesttJig anecdotes of Mr. Cusac^ young 
Gales and Dinkins, colonel Lee^s little bup'lery John 
Wiley ^ Peter 7'arnal^ young- M'^Coy^ major Broxvii^ 
colonel Haynes.^ and lord Raivdoii, 

THE next day, colonel Lee with his legion came 
up, to the inexpressible joy of us all ; partly on ac- 
count of his cavalry, which to be sure, was the hand- 
somest we had ever seen ; but much more on account 
of himself, of whom we had heard that, in deep art 
and undaunted courage, he was a second Marion.-— 
This, our high opinion of him, was greatly exalted by 
his own gallant conduct, for he had been with us but 
a few days before he proposed the surprise of George- 
town, which was very cordially concurred with by 
general Marion. 

The infantry and cavalry employed on the occa- 
sion, were to apjiroach the to>vn at -iifferent points, 
after midnight, and at a signal ffom the latter, to 
commence the attack. Unfortun^itely, the cavalry 
did not get up in time, owing to s«me fault of their 
guide. I'he infantry arrived at the appointed mo- 
ment, and dreading the dangers of delay, charged at 
once into the town, which they found utterly unpre- 
pared for an attack. Colonel Campbell, the com- 
mander, was made prisoner in his bed; adjutant 
Crookshanks, major Irvin, and other officers were 
sound asleep at a tavern belonging to a genteel fami- 
ly, with whom they had spent the evening with great 
hilarity. A detachment of our men approached the 
house and surrounded it. Soon as the alarm waa 
given, the officers leaped out of bed, and not waiting^ 
flew into the piazza, flourishing their pistob 



196 THE Lir£ OF 

ana shouting to the charge. Major Irvin, with mo^ 
'•ourage than discretion, fired a pistol, and would havi 
tried another, but just as he had cocked it, he was 
stopped short by the stroke .)f a bayonet, which end- 
ed him and his courage together. Adjutant Crook- 
shanks, acting in the same htroic style, would have 
shared the same fate, had it lot been for an angel of 
a young woman, daught 'r '^f the gentleman of the 
house. This charming gii" was engaged to be mar* 
ried to Crookshanks. Wakt'I by the firing and hor- 
rid din of battle in the piazza, •'he was at ti/st almost 
'reft of her senses by the fright But the moment she 
heard her lover's voice, all her ♦errors vanished, and 
instead of hiding herself under the bedclothes, she 
.rushed into the piazza am dst the mortal fray, with 
sno armour but her love, no ^.overing but her flowing 
tresses. Happily for her lov^er, she got to him just 
"in time to throw her arms around his neck and scream 
•out, "Oh save! save major Crookshanks !" Thus, 
•^vith her own sweet body shielding him against the 
uplifted swords of her enraged countrymen ! 

Crookshanks yielded himself our prisoner; but wc 
paroled him on the spot, and kft him to those deli- 
cious sentiments which he must have felt in the arms 
•of an elegant young woman, who had saved his life 
oy an effort of love sufficient to endear her to him to 
all eternity. 

It was told us afterwards of this charming girl, 
that as soon as we were gone, and, of course, the 
•danger past and the tumult of her bosom subsided, 
:jihe fell into a swoon, from which it was with difli- 
'culty that she was recovered. Her extreme fright, on 
;being waked by the firing and horrid uproar of battle 
.in the house, and her strong sympathy in her lover's 
tdanger, together with the alarm occasioned by find- 
ling herself in his arms, were too much for her deli- 
cate frame. 

There is a beauty in generous actions which charms 
ihe souls of men? and a sweetness, wliich like thai 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 197 

immortal love whence it flows, can never die. The 
eyes of all, even the poorest soldiers in our camp, 
sparkled with pleasure whenever they talked, as they 
often did, of this charming woman, and of our gene- 
rosity to major Crookshanks ; and to this day, even 
after a lapse of thirty years, I never think of it but 
with pleasure ; a pleasure as exquisite, perhaps, as 
what I felt at the first moment of that transaction. 

And it is a matter of great satisfaction to me, to 
think how nobly different in this respect was our con- 
duct from that of the British. 1 speak not of the 
British iiation^ which I hold most 77iug'nanimou>'i ; but 
of their officers in Carolina, such as Cornwallis, Raw« 
don, Tarleton, Weymies, Brown, and Balfour, who 
instead of treating their prisoners as we did Crook- 
shanks, have often been known to butcher them ia 
cold blood; though theiry^^^Ae^r.s", mothers and children^ 
on bended knees, with wringing hands and streaming 
eves, have been imploring pity for them. 

There was Mr. Adam Cusac, of Williamsburg dis 

trictj this brave man, 

" This buckskin Hampden ; that, witli dauntless breast, 
*' Tne base invttders ot his rigliis withstood/* 

was surprised in his own house by major WeymieSj 
*vho tore him away from his shrieking wife and chil- 
dren, marched him up to Cheraw court-hcaise, and 
after exposing him to the insults of a sham trial, had 
him condemned and hung ! The only charge evei 
exhibited against him was, that he had shot across 
Black river at one ol Weymies' tory captains. 

There was that gallant lad of liberty. Kit Gales, 
with his brave companion, Sam Dinkins : these two 
heroic youths were dogged to the house of a whig 
friend, near the hills of Santsc, where they were sur- 
prised in their beds by a party of tories, who hurried 
them away to lord Rawdon, then on his march from 
Charleston to Camden. Rawdon quickly had them, 
Recording to his favourite phrase, '^knocked into 
#"^3," and marched on under guaid with his troopft* 



198 THE LIFE OF 

On halting for breakfast, young Gales was tucked up 
to a tree, and choked with as little ceremony as if he 
had been a mad dog. He and young Dinkins had, 
it seems, the day before, with their horses and rifles, 
ventured alone, so near the British army, as to fire 
several shots at them ! For such heroic daring' in de- 
fence of their country, in place of receiving applause 
from lord Rawdon, Gales, as we have seen, received 
his bloody death. His gallant young friend, Dinkins, 
was very near drawing his rations of a like doleful 
dish, for lord Rawdon had him mounted upon the 
same cart with the halter round his neck, ready for 
a launch into eternity , when the tories suggested to 
his lordship their serious apprehensions that a terrible 
vengeance might follow : this saved his life. 

Every body has heard the mournful story of colo- 
nel Lee's little bugler, and how he was murdered by 
colonel Tarleton. This '* poor beardless boy," as 
Lee, in his pathetic account of that horrid transaction, 
calls him, had been mounted on a very fleet horse ; 
but to gratify a countryman who had brought some 
news of the British, and was afraid of falling into 
their hands, Lee ordered the boy to exchange his 
horse, a moment, for that of the countryman, which 
happened to be a miserable brute. This Lee did in 
his simplicity, npt even dreaming that any thing in 
the shape of civilized man could think of harming 
such a child. Scarcely had Lee left hmi, when he 
was overtaken by Tarleton's troopers, who dashed up 
to him with looks of death, brandishing their swords 
over his head. In vain his tender cheeks, reminding 
them of their own youthful brotheu, sought to touch 
their pity ; in vain, with feeble voice, and as long as 
he was able, he continued to cry for quarter. They 
struck their cruel swords into his face and arms, 
which they gashed with so many mortal wounds 
that he died the next day. 

•' Is your name Wiley :?" said one of Tarleton's cap- 
tains, whose name was Tucic-, to Mr. John Wiley, 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 19» 

••herifT of Camden, who had lately whipped and crop- 
ped a acted horse thief, named Smart. *' Is your 
name Wiley V said captain Tuck to the young man, 
*t whose door he rode up and asked the question.— 
' Yes, sir," replied Mr. Wiley. " Well, then, sir, 
y'ou are a d — n — d rascal^'' rejoined cajjtain Tuck, 
E^iving him at the same time a cruel blov/ over the 
forehead v/ith his broadsword. Young Wiley, tho'igh 
doomed to die, being not yet slain, raised his naked 
arm to screen the blow. This, though no more than 
a common instinct of poor human nature in the mo • 
ment of terror, served but to redouble the fury of 
captain Tuck, who continued his blows at the bleed- 
ing, staggering youth, until death kindly placed him 
beyond the reach of human malice. 

All this was done within a few hundred paces of 
lord Cornwallis, who never punished captain Tuck. 
But poor P^ter Yarnall's case seems still more de- 
plorable. This hard fated man, a simple, inoffensive 
quaker, lived near Camden. Having urgent business 
with a man, v/ho, as he understood, was with general 
Sumpter, on the opposite side of the Catawba, he 
went over to him. The man happened, at that mo- 
ment, to be keeping guard over some torij prisoners. 
A paper which Yarnall wanted to see was, it seems, 
in a jacket pocket in the man's tent hard by. " Hold 
my piece a moment, sir," said he to Yarnall, "and 
I'll bring the paper.* Yarnall, though averse, as a 
quaker, from all killing of enemies with a gun, yet 
saw no objection to holding one a moment. The 
next day, a day for ever black in the American calen- 
dar, witnessed the surprised of general Sumpter and 
the release of the tory prisoners, one of whom imme- 
diately went his way and told colonel Tarleton that 
he had seen Peter Yarnall, the day before, keeping 
g-ucird ovQT the k'nig'^s friends^ r)Y\sor\QYS, to the r:;hels. 
The poor man's house was quicklv s'lrrounded by the 
Britisli cav-alry. Vain were all his ovm explanations, 
his wife's entreaties, or his children's cries. He v/as 



200 THE LIFK OF 

ilragged to Camden, and thrust into prison. Every 
morning, his wife and daughter, a girl or about fif- 
teen, rode into town in an old chair, to see him, and 
to bring him milk and fruits, which must have been 
highly acceptable to one crammed, in the dogdays, 
into a small prison, with one hundred and sixty-three 
half-stifled wretches. On the fourth day, an amia- 
ble young lady. Miss Charlton, living near the prison, 
had heard of poor Yarnall's fate that morning. Soon 
therefore as she saw Mrs. Yarnall and her daughter 
coming along as usual, with their little present to 
their husband and father, she bursted into tears. 
Mrs. Yarnall alighted at the door of the jail, and beg- 
ged to see her husband. " Follow me," said one of 
the guard, " and I'll show you your husband." As 
she turned the corner, ^' There he is, madam," said 
the soldier, pointing to her husband as he hung dead 
on a beam from the window. The daughter sunk to 
the ground ; but her mother, as if petrified at the 
sight, stood silent and motionless, gazing on her 
dead husband with that wild keen eye of unutterable 
wo, which pierces all hearts. Presently, as if braced 
up with despair, she seemed quite recovered, afid 
calmly begged one of the soldiers to assist her to 
take down the corpse and lay it in the bottom of the 
chair. Then taking her seat, with her daughter sob- 
bing by her side, and her husband dead at her feet, 
she drove home apparently quite unmoved ; and dur- 
ing the whole time she was preparing his coffin and 
nerforming the funeral duties, she preserved the 
»ame firm unaltered looks. But soon as the grave 
had shut its mouth on her husband, and divorced 
him for ever from her sight, the remembrance of the 
past rushed upon her thoughts with a weight too 
heavy for her feeble nature to bear. Then claspinc 
her hands in agony, she shrieked out, " Poor me 1 
poor me I I have no husband, no friend now •'" and 
immediately ran raving mad, and died in that state. 
There was young M'CQVi the eye of humanity 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 201 

must weep often, as she turns the page that tells how 
this amiable youth was murdered. His father was 
one of the most active of our militia captains. A» 
none better understood American rights, so none 
more deepiy resented British aggressions, than did 
captain IVrCoy. His just views and strong feel- 
ings, were carefully instilled into his boy, who, 
though but fifteen, shouldered his musket, and, in 
spite of his mother's tears, followed his father to war. 
Many a gallant Englishman received his death at their 
hands. For, being well acquainted with the river, 
and bravely supported by their friends, they often 
fired upon the enemy's boats, killing their crews and 
intercepting their provisions. This so enraged co- 
lonel Brown, the British commander at Augusta, that 
he made several attempts to destroy captain M^Coy. 
Once, in particular, he despatched a captain and fifty 
men to surprise him. But M'Coy kept so good a 
look out, that he surprised and killed the captain and 
twenty of his men. The rest, by giving good leg 
hail^ made their escape. Young M'Coy fought by 
the side of his father in this and many other rencon- 
tres, in one of which he had the great good fortune 
to save his father's life. 

At the head of some gallant friends, they fell in 
with a strong party of tories, near Brier creek, com- 
manded by a British officer. As usual, an obstinate 
and bloody contest ensued. The combatants quickly 
coming to close quarters, M'Coy grappled with the 
officer ; but not possessing strength equal to his 
courage, he was overpowered and thrown on the 
ground. The youth, who had just fired his piece 
into the bosom of a tory, seeing his father's danger, 
flew to his aid, and with the butt of his gun knocked 
out the brains of the officer, at the very instant he 
was lifting his dirk for the destruction of his father 

In a skirmish, in which his party were victorious, 
captain M'Coy was mortally wounded, and died ex- 
horting his son still to fight undauntedly for the lilaer* 



202 THE LIFE QF 

ties of his countr}^ After the death of his fadie*, 

voung M'Coy joined the brave captain Clarke. 1b 
an expedition against colonel Brown, Clarke was de- 
feated, and young Ai'Coy made prisoner. Hearing 
of his miijfortune, his mother hastened to Augusta, 
but arrived only in time to meet him with colonel 
Brown and a guard, carrying him out to the gallows. 
Vv'^ith gushing tears, she fell upon his neck, and bit- 
terly mourned her lot, as wretched above all women, 
in thus losing her husband and only son. 

The behaviour of young M'Coy, it is said, was he- 
roic beyond his years. Instead of melting with his 
disconsolate mother, he exhorted her like one who 
had acted on principle, and now felt its divine conso» 
lations stronger than death. 

He entreated his mother not to weep for him, nor 
for his father. " In the course of nature, mother," 
said he, *'' we were to part. Our parting indeed, ia 
early ; but it is glorious. My father was like a lion 
in battle for his country. As a young lion, I fought 
by his side. And often, when the battle was over, 
did he embrace and call me his boy ! his own brave 
hoy ! and said I was worthy of you both. He has 
just gone before, and I now follow him, leaving you 
the joy to remember, that your son and husband have 
attained the highest honour on earth ; the honour of 
fighting and dying for the rights of man." 

Anxious to save the life of so dear a son, poor Mrs. 
M'Coy fell on her knees to colonel Brown, and with 
all the widowed mother agonizing in her looks, plead 
for his life. But in vain. With the dark features 
of a soul horribly triumphant over the cries of mercy, 
he repulsed her suit, and ordered the executioner to 
do his office ! He hung up the young man before the 
eyes of his mother! and then, with savage joy, suf- 
fered his Indians, in her presence, to strike theii 
tomahawks into his forehead ; that forehead which 
she had so often pressed to her bosom, and kisseO 
with all the transports of a doating xDoiher. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 303 

Who, without tears, can think of the hard fate of 
poor colonel Haynes and his family. 

Soon as the will of heaven had thrown Charleston 
into the hands of the British, lord Cornwallls, famed 
for pompous proclamations, began to publish. The 
tenour of his gasconade was, that Carolina was now, 
to all intents and purposes, subjugated ; that the ene- 
mies of his lord the king were all at his mercy ; and 
that though, by the war rubrick for conquered rebels 
he had a right to send fire and sword before him, with 
blood and tears following in his course ; though he 
had a right to feed the birds of heaven with rebel 
carcasses, and to fatten his soldiers with their confis- 
cated goods, yet he meant not to use that dreadful 
right. No indeed ! Far from him was all such odious 
thoughts. On the contrary he wished to be merciful ; 
and as proof of his sincerity, all that he asked of the 
poor deluded people of his majesty's colony of South 
Carolina was, that they should no longer take nart nor 
lot in the contest, but cojitinue peaceablu at their homes. 
And that, in reward thereof, they should be most 
sacredly protected m property and person. 

This proclamation was accompanied with an in- 
strument of neutrality, as an " outward and visible 
sign of an inward and spiritual grace," in my lord 
Cornwallis towards the Carolinians ; and which in- 
strument they were invited to sign, that they might 
have a covenant right to the aforesaid promised bless- 
ings oi protection^ both in property and person. 

The heart of colonel Haynes was with his country- 
men, and fervently did he pray that his hands could 
be with them too. But, these, alas ! were bound up 
by his wife and children, wdiom, it is said, he loved 
passing well. Helpless and trembling as they were, 
how could they be deserted by him in this fearful 
season, and given up to a i)rutai soldiery .'' And v/hy 
should he insure the destruction of a larj^e estate, 
when all opposition seemed hopeless .'' In short, 
with thousands of others, he went and signed an in 



204 THE LIFE OF 

Btrument, which pron^ised security to his family and 
fortune. But alas ! from that fatal moment he nevei 
morf> enjoyed peace. To hate the ministerial mea 
sures as he did, and yet thus tamely to have submit- 
ted to them ; to love his country as heartily as he did, 
and to know that she was now fighting-, with her all 
at stake, and yet thus to have deserted her ! 

These keen self-condemning reflections harrowed 
every root of quiet from his soul. If he went to his 
couch, it was only to groan, sleepless and tossing, all 
the restless night. If he got up, it was but to sit, or 
walk to and fro in his family, with dark and woful 
looks, like one whom trouble had overcome. 

In the midst of these anguishing reflections, which 
appeared to be wearing him fast to the grave, a res- 
pite was afl'orded, and by a hand from which it was 
least expected. Lord Cornwallis, having by his first 
proclamation, obtained to the instrument of neutrality 
aforesaid, the signativ/es of many thousands of the 
citizens of South Carolina, then came out with a ,9^- 
cond proclamation, in which he nominates the paper 
above not an instrument of neu-trality, but a bond of 
allegiance to the king, and calls upon all who had 
signed it, to take up arms against the rebels ! — threat- 
ening to treat as deserters those who refused ! 

This fraud of my lord Cornwallis, excited in all 
honest men the deepest indignation. It completely 
revived colonel Haynes. To his unspeakable joy, he 
now saw opened a door of honrnirabk return to duty 
and happiness. And ^ince, contrary to the most so- 
lemn compact, he was compelled to fight^ he very na- 
turally determined to fight the British, rather than his 
own countrymen. He fled to his countrymen, who 
received him with joy, and ga\e him a command of 
horse. He was surprised and carried to Charleston, 
where lord Rav/don, then commandant, ordered him, 
in his favourite phrase, to be knocked into irons. A 
mock trial, dignified with the name of court martialf 
was held over him, and colorsel Haynes was scnt<^Y>csd 



to l)« Mtn^: Everybody In Charleston, Britons . 
WcUaa Americans, all heard this sentence with horror, 
except colonel Haynes himself. On his cheek alone, 
all agree, it produced no change. It appeared that 
the deed which he had done, signing that accursed 
paper, had run him desperate. Though the largei 
part, even of his enemies, believing that it was done 
merely from, sympathy with his wife and children, felt 
the generous disposition to forgive him., yet he could 
never forgive himself. It had inflicted on his mind 
% wound too ghastly to be healed. 

To their own, and to the great honour of human 
nature, numbers of the British and loyalists, "with 
governor Bull at their head, preferred a petition to 
lOrd Rawdon in his behalf. But the petition was not 
noticed. The ladies then came lorward in his favour 
with a petition, couched in the most delicate and 
moving terms, and signed by all the principal females 
of Charleston, tories as well as whigs. But all to no 
purpose. It was then suggested by the friends of 
humanity, that if the colonel's little children, for they 
had no mother, she, poor woman ! crushed under the 
double weight of grief and the small-pox, was just 
8unk at rest in the grave. It was suggested, I say, 
that if the colonel's little children, dressed in raourn- 
ing, were to fall at the knees of lord Rawdon, he 
would pity their motherless condition, and give to 
their prayers their only surviving parent. They 
were accordingly dressed in black, and introduced 
into his presence ; they fell down at his knees, and, 
with clasped hands and tear-streaming eyes, lisped 
iheir father's name, and beggwl his life : but in vain. 

So many efforts to save him, both by friends and 
generous foes, could not be made, unknown to colo- 
nel Haynes. But he appeared perfectly indiiferent 
about the result ; and when told that they had all 
failed, he replied with the utmost unconcern— *' Well, 
thank God, lord Rawdon cannot hurt mti. He can- 



206 THE LIFE OF 

not be more anxious to take my life tnan 1 am to lay 
it down " 

With his son, a youth of thirteen, who was per 
mitted to stay with him in the prison, colonel Haynes 
used often to converse, in order to fortify him a2;ains^ 
the sad trial that was at hand. And indeed it was 
necessary, for seldom has a heavier load been laid on 
a tender-hearted youth. War, like a thick cloud, had 
darkened up the gay morning of his days ; the grave 
had just closed her mouth on a mother who doated 
on him; and he now beheld his only parent, a be- 
loved father, in the power of his enemies, loaded with 
irons, and condemned to die. With cheeks wet with 
tears, he sat continually by his father's side, and look- 
ed at him with eyes so piercing and sad, as often 
wrung tears of blood from his heart. 

" Why," said he, " my son, will you thus break 
your father's heart with unavailing sorrow ? Have 1 
not often told you, that we came into this world but 
to prepare for a better ? For that better life, my dear 
bo}'', your father is prepared. Instead then of weep- 
ing, rejoice with me, my son, that my troubles are so 
near an end. To-morrow, I set out for immortality. 
You will accompany me to the place of my execution ; 
and when I am dead, take and bury me by the side 
of your mother." 

The youth here fell on his father's neck, crying 
' Oh my father! my father! I will die with you! . 
will die with you!" 

Colonel Haynes would have returned the strong 
embrace of his son ; but, alas ! his hands were loaded 
with irons. " Live," said he, " my son, live to honour 
God by a good life ; live to serve your country ; and 
live to take care of your brother and little sisters !" 

The next morning colonel Haynes was conducted 
to the place of execution. His son accompanied him. 
Soon as tney came in sight of the gallows, the father 
strengthened himself and said — " JVbzo, my son, shou 
yourself a man. That tree is the ^fmindanj of my Ufe 



Page 206. 




Oh ny father ! my father! J will die with you. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. HOT 

and of all my life's sorrows. Beyond that, the tmcked 
,cease from troubling and the tvcary are at rest, Dori^t 
lay too much to heart our separation from you; it will 
be but short. ' Twas but lately your dear mother died. 
To-day I die. And you, my son, though but youngs 
must shortly follow us.^^ 

" Yes, my father," replied the broken-hearted youth, 
" I shall shortly follow you : for indeed I feel that I 
cannot live long." And so it happened unto him. 
For on seeing his father in the hands of the execu- 
tioner, and then struggling in the halter, he stood like 
one transfixed and motionless with horror. Till then 
he had wept incessantly ; but soon as he saw that 
sight, the fountain of his tears was staunched, and 
he never wept more. It was thought that grief, like 
a fever, burnt inwardly, and scorched his brain, for 
he became indifferent to every thing around him, and 
often wandered as one disordered in his mind. . At 
times, he took lessons from a fencing master, and 
talked of going to England to fight the murderer of 
his father. But he who made him had pity on him, 
and sent death to his relief. Pie died insane, and in 
his last moments often called on the name of his father, 
in terms that brought tears from the hardest hearts. 

I hope my reader will not suppose, from these odi- 
ous truths which I have been telling him about the 
British and tories, that I look on them as worse than 
other men ; or that I would have him bear an eternal 
hatred against them. No, God forbid. On the con- 
trary, I have no doubt on my mind, that the British 
and tories are men of tlie same passions with our- 
selves. And I also as firmly believe, that, if placed 
in their circumstances, we should have acted just as 
they did. Upon honour this is my conviction now; 
but it was not always so ; for I confess there was a 
time, when I had my prejudices against them, and 
prejudices too as strong as those of any other man, 
Jet him be who he would. But thank God those pre- 
judices, so dishonourable to tlie head, and so uneasy 



208 THE LIFE OF 

to the heart, are done away from me now. And from 
this most happy deliverance, I am, through the divine 
goodness, principally indebted to my honoured friend, 
general Marion, of whose noble sentiments, on these 
subjects, I beg leave to give the reader some little 
specimen in the next chapter. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

Short and sweet — -or^ a curious dialogue between gent- 
ral Marion and captain Snipes^ on retaliation, 

** No radiant pearls that crested fortune wears, 
No gem that sparkling hangs in beauty's ears ; 
Not the bright stars that night's blue arch adorn, 
Nor opening suns that gild the vernal mora, 
Shine with such lustre as the tear that flows 
Down virtue's manly cheeks, for others' woes." 

WHAT gigantic form is that which stalks thus 
awfully before the eyes of my memory; his face, 
rough and dark as the cloud of winter, and his eye- 
balls burning like coals of fire ? 'Tis the impetuous 
captain Snipes. He is just returned from the quarter 
house near Charleston, where he and captain M'Cau- 
ley, with Macdonald and forty men, have recently 
surprised and cut to pieces a large party of the ene- 
my. He looks as if the fury of the battle had not j'^et 
subsided in his wrathful countenance. His steps are 
towards Marion, and as he presents a packet, he ex- 
claims in an angry tone, " There, sir, is a Charleston 
paper. You'll see there how those villains are going 
on yet. Not satisfied with all the murders they had 
committed before, they have gone now and murder- 
ed colonel Haynes." Here he gave the heads of that 
dis^aceful act, seasoning his speech every now and 
then, as he went along, with sundry very bitter im- 
precations on lord Rawdon. 

" Ah shame ! shame upon him !" replied the gene- 
»al with a sigh^and shaking his head ; " shame upon 
lord Rawdon !" 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 209 

" Shame !'' answered captain Snipes, his eyes flash- 
log fire ; " shame ! I hope something heavier than 
sname will light upon him for it soon. The Ameri- 
can officers have sworn never again to give quartci 
to the British or tories.'' 

Marion. God forbid that my countrymen should 
have taken such an oath as that ! 

iS'nipes. Why, general Marion, would you have the 
enemy go on at this rate, and v/e take no revenge ? 

M. Revenge ? O yes, to be sure, sir ; revenge is 
sweet, and by all means let us have it; but let it b& 
of the right kind. 

S. Of the right kind, sir ! what do you call revenge 
of the ri-ght kind ? 

M» Why, sir, I am for taking that kind of revenge 
which will make our enemies ashamed of their con- 
duct, and abandon it for ever. 

S. Ashamed of their conduct ! 3Ionsters I they are 
not capable of shame. 

M. Pshaw ! don't talk so, captain Snipes ! our ene- 
mies, sir, are men, and just such men as we are ; and 
as :apable of generous actions, if we will but show 
them the way. 

S. Well then, general Marion, how do you account 
for that great difference between us and them in point 
of spirits ? We have never yet killed any of their 
men, except in fair fight, that I have heard of; but 
they have often murdered ours. Yes, the cowardly 
rascals ! they have often done it, and that in cold 
blood too. 

M' Granted. And I am very glad that when we 
have had them in cur power, v/e have always treated 
them so much more generously. But, I suppose the 
reason of svich barbarity on iheir part, lb, they have 
iiad, or v/hich is the same tl^ig, :iave tliGUght they 
had gi'eater provocations. 

*S*. They be d — n — d, they and tneir provocations 
loo ! Are not -ivv the persons who have been invaded, 
T2 



:^10 THE LIFE OF 

9nd plundered and murdered by them^ and not they by 
us P How then can they have greater provocations ? 

Jkf. Why, sir, sprung originally from them, and al- 
ways looked on by them as their children, our turning 
now and fighting against them, must appear, in their 
sight, a very great provocation ; as great perhaps as 
that of children fighting against their parents. And 
again, our shaking off what they glory in, as the wisest, 
and freest, and happiest government on earth, must 
make us seem to them as no better than the vilest 
traitors and rebels ; which cannot otherwise than prove 
another very great provocation. And again, after 
having been ftrst settled in this country b'lj them, as 
they will have it, and afterwards, so long and liberally 
assisted with their best blood and treasure, in hope 
that some day or other we should be of service to 
them ; that now, at the very time when, by our im- 
mense population, we were just arrived to the so long 
desired point, to swell their wealth and spread their 
commerce and arms over the world, we should sepa- 
rate from them, blast all their fond hopes, and throw 
them back to the former level } this, I say, you will 
certainly allow, must be a very severe provocation. 
Now, sir, putting all these provocations together, and 
'"*lso taking poor human nature inK) the account, is ir 
to be wondered at, that the British should be so muc?i 
more angry, and consequently m.ore violent than we I 

S. Why, certainly, general Marion, you have al- 
ways a very fine knack at setting off your arguments^ 
But still, sir, I can't see things in that light. For a 
man, sir, to go and trump up a pack of claims against 
me, and all of them because I can't credit him in the 
abominable extent he wishes, to fall upon me and kill 
and murder me, as the British and tories have done 
with us, and we not stop them bv '•evenge ! why, my 
God ! sir, it will never do. For, -aI this rate, whom 
shall we have livmg m all this country, in a little time, 
but the British, and their friends the tories and ne* 
groes ? 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 2ff 

M* My brave captain let me tell you again, I am 
dis anxious to stop them as you can possibly wish me 
to be ; but I am for doing it in v/hat I think the right 
way, I mean the way of policy and humanity. 

S» Policy, sir I can their be policy in letting our 
best men be murdered by these savages ! I'm sure 
general Washington did not think so. For, though 
I am no man of learning myself, yet I have been told 
by those that are, that, on its being threatened by 
general Gage to hang an American soldier, he instant 
ly wrote him word, that if he dared to do such a thing, 
the life of a British soldier should pay for it. And, 
It is well known, that he kept the British army and 
nation too, in a fright for three months together, with 
the halter constantly around the neck of captain As- 
gil, expecting every day to be hung for the murder 
of captain Huddy. 

M. True ; general Washington did act so. And it 
was policy to act against a foreign enemy. But our 
standing with the tories is quite a different case, and 
requires a very different course. The tories are our 
countrymen, a part of our own population and 
strength, so that every man of them that is killed, is 
a man for ever lost to ourselves. Now, since the 
British have put them up to murder us, if we go, out 
of revenge, to murder them again, why, in the course 
of a little time our population will be so cut up, as to 
allow the British ministry, with ease, to take our 
country, and make slaves of us all ; which is just 
what lord North desires. 

S. Yes, I dare say it is. But I hope he'll be dis- 
appointed yet. 

M. No doubt of it, sir ; if v/e shall be wise and 
magnanimous enough to follow the true policy, which 
s no other than humanity to these deluded people, 
the tories . and to this we have every inducement 
that generous spirits could desire. The tories and 
ourselves are brothers ; many of us went to the same 
school together ; and a thousand times have ate and 



212 THE LIFE OF 

drank in each other's houses. And as to the quan«4 
in which we are now unfortunately engaged, though 
not the most, still we are much in fault. We made no 
allowances for those follies of theirs which led to it. 
They thought — Firsts That we were too nearly allied 
to England to go to war with her: this was a weak* 
ness, but there was something amiable in it. — *S(?- 
coiidly^ They thought the British were much too war- 
like and powerful to be resisted by us : this was an 
error, but it was learned in the nursery. — Thirdly 
They wished to keep in with the British, merely that 
they might save their property : this was altogethei 
from fear^ and therefore claimed some commiseration. 
But no ! we could not grant one grain of indulgence 
V) any of their mistakes. 'SYe would have it, they 
all proceeded from the vilest of motives. We called 
them traitors J and cowards^ and scoundrels ; and load* 
edthem with a thousand indignities besides. Well, 
the consequences were, as might have been expected 
from human weakness and passion. Wrought to des- 
peration, and caring not what they did, they have 
gone and joined our enemies, and many valuable lives 
have been lost on both sides. Surely 'tis high time 
now that we should set about doing something to 
end it. 

S. Well ! let them set about ending it themselves. 
They were the first to begin it. 

M. But would you have the tories to lead to glory ? 

S. Glory ! I should think it meanness to be the 
first to make overtures to such rascals ! 

M. Vv'ell, but, captain Snipes, when brethren, as we 
are, fall out, is it policy to go on to exasperate and cut 
h other's throats, until our enemy comes and takes 
away a line country, of which, by such madness, we 
had rendered ourselves unworthy T Would it not be 
much better policy to truce back all our v/rong stepa 
of passion and revenge, and making hearty friends 
xgain, and joining our forces against the common ene- 
my, drive him out of our country; and then bv estab* 



GEN, FRANCIS MARION. sna 

lishing a free government, and encouraging agricul- 
ture and commerce, and learning, and religion, make 
ourselves a great and happy people again ; would not 
this, I say, be the true policy ? 

S. Why yes, I confess, general Marion, it would 
be a noble thing, and very desirable, if it could be 
done. But I cannot bear to think of being the first to 
make terms with the tories, after they have been 
burning, and plundering, .and murdering our best 
friends. It is too hard, sir, for mortal flesh and blood. 

3f. It is a great trial, I confess; but "the heavier 
the cross the brighter the crown," you know, sir. And 
as to the dtfficulti) of the undertaking, that's the very 
thing that should make us jump at it ; the glory of 
showing ourselves wiser and better men than our 
enemy. . And besides, let us recollect that the glory 
of this exploit all now lies with us : for if we do not 
pluck up courage and do it, it will never be done. — 
The tories are, generally, an ignorant people ; and 
therefore not much of wise or good is to be expected 
^om that quarter. They have also, in many instances, 
acted a very savage part by us : their consciousness 
of this can have no tendency to make them court re- 
conciliation with us. Since, then, but little is to be 
expected from them^ it seems incumbent on us to do 
t^ne more. We have better information, and we have 
also a much better cause. These are great advantages 
which God has given us; and now it becomes us to 
improve them, to his glory and to our own honour, by 
showing a conciliatory and magnanimous spirit to- 
wards our enemies. And though it should cost us 
labour to win such a victory, ijet^ I am confident, that 
when won, it will appear to us the most glorious that 
we ever achieved. To conquer an enemy by the 
sword, is, no doubt, honourable ; but still it is nothing 
in comparison of conquering him by generosity. As 
arguing both superior virtue and courage, it com- 
mands higher admiration from the v/^orld,'and is re- 
flected on bj'^ ourselves with far more self-esteem and 



214 THE LIFE OF 

applause. ^. And then, sir, only consider how such 
conduct will gild the future scenes of life. This un- 
fortunate quarrel betwixt us and our countrymen, the 
tories, is not to last for ever. It was only the act of 
a wicked ministry, attempting, by an unconstitutional 
tax to enslave an affectionate part of the nation. God 
can never suffer such an attempt to prosper. It must 
be but a momentary quarrel ; and we ought to ac- 
custom ourselves to think of it as such, and to look 
beyond it to the happy days that are to succeed. And 
since the storm of war is soon to subside into tha 
calm of peace, let us do nothing novf, that may thr«w 
a cloud over the coming sunshine. Let us net even 
talk of exterminating' war J that unnatural crime which 
would harrow up our souls Avith the pangs of remorse, 
and haunt our repose with the dread of retaliation — « 
which would draw down upon our cause the curse of 
heaven, and make our ver}- name the odium of all 
generations. But, far differently, let us act the gener- 
ous part of those who, though now at variance, are 
yet brothers, and soon to be good friends again. And 
then, when peace returns, we shall be in proper frame 
to enjoy it. No poor woman that we meet will seem 
to upbraid us for the slaughter of her husband; no 
naked child, for robbing him of his father ; no field 
will cry against us for a brother's blood. On the 
contrary, whenever the battles which we are now fight- 
ing, shall recur to our thoughts, with the frightened 
enemy grounding their arms and crying for quarter, 
we shall remember how we heard their cries and stop- 
ped the uplifted sword. Joy will spring in our bo- 
soms, and all around will smile with approbation.-— 
The faces of the aged will shine upon us, because we 
spared their sons ; bright-eyed females will bless us 
for their surviving husbands : and even the lips of 
the children v/ill lisp our praises. Thus with a heaven 
of delighted feeling in our hearts, and tlie smiles both 
of God and man on our heads, we shall pass the even- 
ing of our days in glorious oe»ce. And when death 



GEN. FRANCIS IMARION. 213 

shall call us to that better world, we shall obey with- 
out reluctance. Conscious of neither dread nor hate 
towards any of the blessed people that dwell there, 
we shall go in strong hope of witnessing the bright 
realities of that state, where all is immortality and 
love. Perhaps we shall there meet many of those 
whom it has been our sad destiny to fight with here ; 
not in their present imperfect state, but in their state 
of exaltation, clad in robes brighter than the stars, 
and their faces outshiriing the sun in his noonday 
splendours. Perhaps at sight of us, these glorious 
spirits may rush with ne v/-flushed beauties, to embrace 
us, and in the presence of crowding angels, recount 
our kindness to them in the days of their mortality ; 
while all the dazzling throngs, listening delighted, 
shall fix on us their eyes of love, inspiring those joys 
which none but strong iimnortala could sustain. Are 
not these, O my friends, hopes worth contending for I 
Is revenge to be cherished that would rob us of such 
honours I Can gencrositij be dear that would ensure 
to us so great rev/ards ? Then let us not think bene- 
volence was enjoined in vain, which is to conduct us 
to such immortal felicities." 

As Marion spoke these words, his countenance, 
which in general was melancholy, caught an anima- 
tion beyond tJie reader's fancy to conceive. The 
charms of goodness, and the bright rewards which 
await it, were painted in such living colours on his 
face, that not even the stranger could have beheld it 
unmoved. On me, who almost adored Marion for 
his godlike virtues, its effects were past describing. 
My bosom heaved with emotions unutterable, while 
the tear of delicious admiration swelled in my eyes. 
As to captain Snipes, he appeared equally affected. 
His eyes were riveted on the general, and towards 
the close of the speech his breath seemed suspended ; 
his colour went and cam.e; and his face reddened 
and swelled J as under the powerful eloquence of the 
pulpit. 



^16 THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

Marion and Lee attack and take fort Watson and f on 
Lee — interesting anecdotes. 

FROM Georgetown, Marion proceeded with colo- 
nel Lee to attack the British post ou Scott's lake, 
generally called fort Watson. The situation of this 
fort was romantic and beautiful in the extreme. — 
Overlooking the glassy level of the lake, it stood on 
a mighty barrow or tomb like a mount, formed of the 
bones of Indian nations, there heaped up from time 
immemorial, and covered with earth and herbage. — 
Finding that the fort mounted no artillery, Marion 
resolved to make his approaches in a \fz.y that 
should give his riflemen a fair chance against their 
musqueteers. For this purpose, large quantities of 
pine logs were cut, and as soon as dark came on, were 
carried in perfect silence, within point blank shot of 
the fort, and run up in the shape of large pens or 
chimney-stacks, considerably higher than the enemy's 
parapets. Great, no doubt, was the consternation of 
the garrison next morning, to see themselves thus 
suddenly overlooked by this strange kind of steeple* 
pouring down upon them from its blazing top inces- 
sant showers of rifie bullets. Nor were they idle th*» 
while, but returned the blaze with equal fury, pre* 
senting to us, who lay at a distance, a very interesting; 
scene — as of two volcanoes that had suddenly broke 
out into fiery strife, singeing the neighbouring pines. 

Though their enemy, yet I could not but pity the 
British, when I saw the great disadvantage under 
which they fought. For our riflemen, lying above 
them and firing through loopholes, were seldom 
hurt; while the British, obliged, ^very time they 
fired, to shov/ their heads, were frequently killed.— 
Increasing still the awkwardness of their situation, 
their well,, which was on the outside of the fort, v/as 
so entirely in the reach of our rifles, that they could 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 217 

not get a pail of water for cofFee or grog, without the 
utmost hazard. After a gallant resistance, they sur« 
rendered themselves prisoners of war ; o«ie hundred 
and twenty in number. 

This fort had been very judiciously fixed in a coun- 
try exceedingly fertile, and on a lake aboanding with 
fine fisii, and from its contiguity to the river Santee, 
forming an admirable deposite for their upland posts. 
From their military storehouse, Aii-hich was on the 
outside of the fort, the British attencipted, at the com- 
mencement of our attack, to get out their goods, and 
to roll them up into the fort. But in this exposed 
state, their men were picked off so fs st by our sharp- 
shooters, that they were soon oblig ed to quit suck 
hot work. 

The sight of their casks and bales , rolled out and 
shining so richly on the side of the hi] 1, set the fingers 
of our ragged militia-men on such an itch, that tnere 
was no resisting it. And presently a squad of three 
of them were seen pushing out, v/ith out leave or ii* 
cense, to attack a large hogshead, that lay very invit* 
ingly on the outside of the rest. The enemy seeing 
the approach of our buccaneers, rcsei ved their fire 
until they had got pretty near up to the intended 
prize; then all at once cut loose upon them with a 
thundering clap, which killed one, cripp ^ed a second, 
and so frightened tlie third, that he foi got the cask, 
and turning tail, thought of nothing bu t to save his 
Dacon ! which he did by such extrjiordii: ary running 
and jumping, as threw us all into a most immoderate 
laugh. 

Presently up comes my black v.^aiter, B illy, with a 
broad grin on his face, and says, " Why,m aster, them 
militia men there, sir, are tarnal fools : tl ley do not 
know nothing at all about stecdhi^. But .if you will 
please, sir, to let me try my hand, I can fet* :h off that 
hogshead there, mighty easy, sir." 

"No, no, Billy!" said I, shaking my hea .d, "that 



Sid THE LIFE OF 

will never do, my lad. I value you much too highly, 
Billy, to let you be knocked on the head, so foolishly 
as all that comes to." 

" Lord bless you, sir," replied he, smiling, " there 
is no more danger in it, than in eating when a body is 
hungry. ' And if you will only please let me try my 
hand, sir, if you see any danger, why then, master, 
you may call me back, you know, sir." 

Upon this he started. Fortunately for him our 
riflemen, seeing what he was after, made a noble di- 
version in his favour, by throwing a galling fire into 
the fort. On getting within thirty yards of the hogs- 
head, he fell fiat on his face, and dragged himself along 
on his belly until he reached it. Then seizing the 
hogshead w4th a hand on each chine he worked it back- 
wards and backwards, like an alligator pulling a dog 
into the river, until he had fairly rolled his prize to the 
brink of the hill, where, giving it a sudden jerk by 
way of a start, and at the same time j umping up, ho 
ran with all his might down the precipice, the hogs- 
head hard after him, and was soon out of all danger. 
Numbers of shot were fired at him, but not one 
touched him, "which gave great joy to our encamp- 
ment, who were all anxious spectators of the trans- 
action, and seemed to take a deep interest in Billy's 
success. And no wonder ; for he was a most noble- 
hearted fellow, and exceedingly useful in camp. Offi- 
cers or soldiers, cadets or colonels, no matter who 
they were, tliat asked Billy a favour, they were sure 
to have it done for them ; and with such a cheerful 
air, as did them more good than the service itself. 
So that I much question, whether there was a man in 
all our camp, whose good luck would have given 
more general satisfaction than his. 

On opening Bill's hogshead, which indeed was no 
hogshead, but rather a puncheon, as big as two hogs- 
heads, there was a prodigious stare among our men 
at the si^ht of so much wealth. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 219 

100 Strong; white shirts for soldiers, 
50 Ene do. do. for officers, 
50 camp blankets, 

100 black stocks, '' 

100 knapsacks, and 
6 dragoon's cloaks, 
vrcre the valuable contents of };illy's cask. The na- 
tive genius of the poor fellow instantly broke out in 
a stream of generous actions, which never stopped, 
until the hogshead v/as completely emptied. First of 
all, he began with me, to whom he presented half a 
dozen of the fine shirts and black stocks, v/ith a dra- 
goon's cloak. Tlicn to the general he made a present^ 
also to the officers of his family. To his fellow-ser- 
vants, who messed with him, he gave two shirts 
a-piece. But what pleased mo most in Billy's dona- 
tions, was his generosity to the two men who had 
miscarried'in their attempt on the same cask. Seeing 
that they were much mortified at their ozvn failure^ 
and a little perhaps at his success, he desired them to 
come and help themselves to what theij liked. Hear- 
ing him then express a wish that he knew what to d( 
with the balance, I told him. that many of our dragoons. 
Were poor men, and much in want of shirts. *" Aye^ 
sure €71011 gh^"* said he, and immediately handed them 
out a shirt a-piece, until all were gone. 

For this generosity of Billy's, general Mitrion dub- 
bed him " captain Billy," a name which he went by 
ever afterwards. Nothing was ever more seasonable 
than this supply, purchased by Billy's valour ; for be- 
fore that, we were all as ragged as young rooks. 
There was not an officer in camp, except colonel Lee 
and his staff, who was so rich as to ov\^n two shirts. 
I am very sure that Marion's aids had but ono 
a-piece. And yet so independent of wxalth is cheer- 
fulness, that I have often seen our officers in their 
naked buffs,near a branch, singing and dancing around 
ihelr shirts, which they had just washed, and hung on 
the bushes to diy. 



220 THE LIFE OF 



% 



TFrom the reduction of fort Watson, we set out im- 
mediately in high spirits, for the still nobler attack 
on foit Motte. For the sake of fine air, and water, 
and handsome accommodations, the British had erect- 
ed this fort in the yard of Mrs. Motte's elegant new 
hou3e,which was nearly enclosed in their works. But 
alas I so little do poor mortals know what they are 
about ! the fme house, which they had rudely taken 
from poor Mrs. Motte, proved to the British, what 
his gay shirt did to Hercules. It wrought their down- 
fall. For, after a fierce contest, in which many valu- 
able lives were lost on both sides, through the sharp 
shooting of the yaugers, and die still closer cutting of 
our riflemen, it struck Marion that he could quickly 
drive the enemy out of the fort, by setting the house 
on fire. But poor Mrs. Motte ! a lone widow, whose 
plantation had been so long ravaged by the war, her- 
self turned into a log cabin, her negroes dispersed, 
and her stock, grain, &c. nearly all ruined ! must she 
now lose her elegant buildings too ? Such scruples 
were honourable to the general ; but they showed his 
total unacquaintedness with the excellent widow. For 
at the first glimpse of the proposition, she exclaimed, 
^ O ! burn it ! burn it, general Marion ! God forbid I 
should bestow a single thought on my little concerns, 
when the independence of my country is at stake.— 
No sir, if it were a palace it should go." She ihen 
stepped to her closet and brought out a curious bow 
with a quiver of arrows, which a poor African boy 
purchased from on board a Guineaman, had formerly 
presented her, and said, "" Here, general, here is what 
will serve your purpose to a hair." The arrows, 
pointed with iron, and charged with lighted combus-" 
tibles, were shot on top of the house, to which they 
stuck, and quickly communicated the flames. The 
British, two hundred in number, besides a good many 
tories, instantly hung out a white flag in sign of sub-, 
mission. 

The excellent Mr?. Motte was present when hei 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 221 

fine new house, supposed to be worth six thousand 
dollars, took lire; and without a sigh, beheld the red 
spiry billov/s prevailing over all its grandeur. 

The day after the destruction of her house, she 
invited general Marion with all the oincers, British 
as well as American, to dine v/ith her. Having now 
no better place of accommodation, she entertained 
us under a large arbour built in front of her log cabin, 
where, with great pleasure, I observed that the same 
lady could one day act the Spartan, and the next the 
Parisian : thus uniting in herself, the rare qualities 
of the heroine and the (shristian. For my life I could 
not keep my eyes from her. To think what an irre- 
parable injury these officers had done her ! v.nd yet 
to see her, regardless of her own appetite, selecting 
the choicest pieces of the dish, and helping them v/ith 
the endearing air of a sister, appeared to me one of 
the loveliest spectacles I had ever beheld. It produced 
the happiest eifect on us all. Catching her amiable 
spirit, we seemed to have entirely forgotten our past 
animosities ; and Britons and Americans mmgled to- 
gether, in smiles and cheerful chat, like brothers. I 
do not recollect a transaction in the whole war, in 
which I can think that God looked dov/n with higher 
complacency than on ti:is. And to the day of my 
death, I shall believe, thai God enabled us to beat the 
British in- arms, because v/e had so far bea.ten them 
in generosity. Men, who under such cruel provoca- 
tions, could display such m.oderation as we did, must 
certainly have given our Maker good hope, that we 
were equal to the glorious business of seIf-ifover?i~ 
ment; or, in other words, of living luider a republic, 
which must certainly be his delight, because both im- 
plying and producing more wisdom and virtue, than 
any other government among men. 

The name of the British comm.andant, our prisoner^ 

was Fergunon ; and a very pleasant gentleman he was 

too, as I found on getting acquainted with him, which 

I soon did. After talking over our various adventures 

U2 



S28 THE LIFE Oh 

in the war, he aske^ me it I did not command the 
cavalry, in the late skirmishing between Watson and 
Marion. I told him I did. " Well," replied he, " you 
made a very lucky escape that day : for do you know 
that we were twelve hundred strong, owing to colone) 
Small's joining us in the march ?" 

" Then truly," said I, *' if that were the case, I 
made a lucky escape, sure enough." 

" And where were you," he asked again, " when 
general Marion so completely surprised our guard at 
Nelson's old fields : were you there ?" 

I told him I was not, but that my brother, Hugh 
Horry, was. 

** Well," continued he, laughing heartily, " that was 
my lucky day. I had a command there that morning 
of about thirty men, as an advance. We had not left 
the guard more than five minutes before the Ameri- 
cans charged and swept all. The moment we heard the 
firing and the cries of our people, we squatted in the 
high grass like so many rabbits, then running on the 
stoop, till we gained the woods, we cleared ourselves." 
I laughed, and asked how many men he supposed 
Marion had that morning. 

He replied, he really did not know, but supposed 
he must have had three or four hundred. 

" Well, sir," said I, " he had exactly thirty." 

The reader may perhaps conceive Ferguson's as- 
tonishment : I cannot describe it. 

Soon as the dishes were removed, we were present- 
ed with a spectacle to which our eyes had long been 
strangers, a brave parade of excellent wine : several 
hampers of which had been received at the fort the 
very day before we commenced the attack. To poor 
soldiers like us, who, for years, had hardly quenched 
our thirst on any thing better than Vv'ater or apple 
brandy grog, this v/as a bight immensely refreshing. 
Whether it was owing to the virtues of this noble cor- 
dial, with the recollection of our late glorious victo- 
ries ; or whether it was the happy result of our gene- 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 223 

tosity to the enemy, and of their correspondent 
politeness to us, I do not know; but certain it is, we 
were all very gay. But in the midst of «^ur enjoy 
ments, which none seemed to relish with a higher 
glee than general Marion, a British soldier came up 
and tv^hispered to one of their officers, who instantly 
coming round to the general, told him in a low voice, 
that the Americans were hanging the tories who had 
been taken in the fort ! 

In a mom.ent he sprang up, in a violent passion, and 
snatching his sword, ran down towards our encamp- 
ment. We all followed him, though without knowing 
the cause. On turning the corner of the garden which 
had concealed their cruel deeds, we discovered a sight 
most shocking to humanity, a poor man hanging in the 
air to the beam of a gate, and struggling hard in the 
agonies of death. " Cut him down ! cut him down !" 
cried the general, as soon as he had got near enough 
to be heard, which was instantlv done. Then running 
up, with cheeks as red as fire coals, and half choked 
with rage, he bawled out, " In the name of God ! what 
are you about, what are you about liere !" 

" Only hanging a few tories, sir,"" replied captain 
Harrison of Lee's legion. 

" WTio gave you a right, sir, to touch the tories ?" 

To this, young M'Corde, of the same corps, replied, 
that it was only three or four rascals of them that 
they meant to hang ; and that they had not supposed 
the general xvould mtndthat. 

" What ! not mind murdering the prisoners. ^VTiy, 
my God ! what do you take me to be ? do you take 
me for a devil ?" 

Then, after placing a guard over the tories, and 
vowing to make an example of the first man who 
should dare to offer them violence, he returned with 
the company to Mrs. Motte's table. 

Of the three unfortunate tories that were hung dead^ 
one was naired Hugh Mizcally. The name of the per- 
son so timely cut down was Levi Smith, a most furi- 



224 THE LIFE OF 

ous tory. This title produced him such respect among 
those degenerate Britons, that they appointed him 
gatekeeper of Charleston, a circumstance that ope- 
rated much against the poor whigs in the country. 
For Smith soon broke up a pious kind of fraud, -v^hijcfc 
the wives and daughters of the tories had for some 
time carried on at a bold rate. 

' To the immortal honour of the ladies of South Ca 
rolina, they were much more whiggishly given thav 
the men ; insomuch that though married to tories, 
they would be whigs still. 

These fair ladies, in consequence of their relation 
to the tories, could, at pleasure, pass into Charleston ; 
which they never left without bringing off quantities 
of broadcloth cut and jumped into petticoats, and art- 
fully hid under their gowns. The broad cloth, thus 
brought off, was for regimentals for our officers.— 
Things went on swimmingly in this way for a long 
time, till Smith, getting one day more groggy and 
impudent than usual, swore that some young women 
who were gomg out at the gate, looked much bigger 
over the hips than they had need, and insisted on a 
search. The truth is, these fair patriots, preparing 
for a great wedding in the country, had thus spoiled 
their shape, and brought themselves to all this dis- 
grace by tlieir over greediness for finery. But Mr. 
tory Smith affected to be so enraged by this trick, 
which the girls had attempted to play on him, that he 
would never afterv/ards suffer a woman to pass with* 
out first pulling up her clothes. 

He carried his zeal to such length, as one day very 
grossly to insult a genteel old lady, a Mrs. M'Corde. 

Her son, who was a dragoon in Lee's legion, swore 
vengeance againstSmith, and v.'ould, as we have seen, 
have taken his life, had not Gen. Marion interposed. 

In the Charleston papers of that day, ITSl, Smith 
gives thehistoiy of his escape from Marion, wherein 
be relates an anecdote, which, if it be ti'ue, and I see 



GEN. FRANCIS AL^R-iOX. 22S 

no reasoFx to doubt it, shows clear enough that his 
ton-ism cost hiiTi clear. 

In his confinement at Motte' s house, he was exces* 
sively uneasy. Well knowing that the whig;s owed 
him no good will, and fearing that the next time thev 
got a halter round his neck, he might find no Marion 
to take his part, he determined if possible to run off. 
The tories were all handcuited two and two, and con- 
fined together under a centinel, in what was called a 
bull-pen^ made of pine trees, cat down so judgmati- 
cally as to form, by their fall, a pen or enclosure. It 
was Smith's fortune to have for his yokefellow a poor 
sickly creature of a tory, who, though hardly able to 
go high-lov/, was prevailed on to desert v»-ith him. 
They had not travelled far into the woods, before his 
sick companion, quite overcome with fatigue, declared 
he could go no farther, and presently fell down in a 
swoon. Confined by the handcuiTs, Smith was obliged 
to lie by him in the woods, two days and nights, 
without meat or drink ! and his comrade frequently 
in convulsions! On the third day he died. Unable 
to bepr it anv longer. Smith drew his knife and se- 
parated himself from the dead man, by cutting oHf 
his arm at the elbow, v\*hich he bore with him to 
Charleston. 

The British heaitily congratulated his return, and 
restored him to his ancient honour of sitting, Morde- 
cai-like, at the king's gate, v.-here, it is said, he be- 
haved verv decently ever afterwards. 

Smith's friends sav of him, that in his ov^'n countr}' 
(South Carolina) he hardly possessed money enough 
to buv a pig, but when he got to England, after the 
war, lie made out as if the rehth had robbed him of 
as manv flocks and herds as the wild Arabs did Job. 
The British government, remarkable for generosity 
to their friends in distress, gave him money enough 
to return to South Carolina with a pretty assortment 
of merchandise. And he is now, I am told, as weal- 



226 ^ THE LIFE OF 

thy as a Jew, and, which is still more to his credit 
as courteous as a christian. 



CHAPTER XXVni. 

T^he author congratulates Jus dear coufitry on her late 
glorious victories — recapitulates British cruelties^ 
drazuing after them^ judicialhj^ a succession of ter* 
rible overthroivs, 

HAPPY Carolina ! I exclaimed, as our late victo- 
ries passed over my delighted thoughts ; happy Caro- 
lina! dear native country, hail ! long and dismal has 
been the night of thy affliction : but now rise and 
sing, for thy " light is breaking forth, and the da^VIl 
of thy redemption is brightening around. '* 

For opposing the curses of slavery, thy noblest citi- 
zens have been branded as rebels^ and treated with a 
barbarity unknown amongst civilized nations. They 
have been taken from their beds and weeping fami- 
lies, and transported, to pine and die in a land ot 
strangers. 

They have been crowded into rnidsuinmer jails 
and dungeons^^^ there, unpitied, to perish amidst suf- 
focation and stench ; while their wives and children, 
in mournful groups around the walls, were asking 
with tears for their husbands and fathers ! 

They have been wantonly murdered v/ith swords 
and bayonets,! or hung up like dogs to ignominious 
gibbets. 

* All Europe was filled with horror at the history of the ono 
hundred and twenty uni'oitun ate Englishmen that' were sutfc- 
cated in the black hole at Calcutta. Little was it thouglit that 
an English noblemim (lord Rawdon) would so soon liave repeated 
that crime, by crowding one hundred and sixty-fom' unfortunaw 
Americans into a small prison in C'amden, in the dogdays. 

\ A Bi*other ot" that excellent man, major Linning. of Charle*' 
ton, was taken trom his plantation on Ashley liver, by one i** 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 327 

They have been stirred up and exasperated against 
»ach other, to the most unnatural and bloody strifes 
* Fathers to kill their sona^ and brothers to put bro 
thers to death /" 

Such were the deeds of Cornwallis and his officer: 
in Carolina! And while the churches in England were, 
every where, resounding with prayers to Almighty 
God, " to spare the effusion of human blood," those 
monsters were shedding it with the most savage wan- 
tonness ! While all the good people in Britain v/ere 
praying, day and night, for a speedy restoration of 
the former happy friendship between England and 
America, those wretches were taking the surest steps 
to drive all friendship from the American bosom, and 
to kindle the flames of everlasting hatred ! 

But, blessed be God, the tears of the widows an6 
orphans have prevailed against them, and the rig-hte- 
ous Jud^e of all the earth is rising up to make inqui- 
sition for the innocent blood which they have shed. 
And never was his hand more visibly displayed in 
the casting down of the wicked, than in humbling 
Cornwallis and his bloody crevv'. 

At this period, 1780, the western extremities were 
the only parts of the state that remainted free. To 
swallow these up, Cornwallis sent Col. Ferguson, a fa- 
vourite ofncer, with fourteen hundred men. Hearing 
of the approach of the enemy, and of their horrible 
cruelties, the hardy mountaineers rose up as one man 
from Dan to Beersheba. They took their faithful rifle? 
They mounted their horses, and with each his bagoi 
oats, and a scrap of victuals, they set forth to find th<. 
enemy. They had no plan, no general leader. The 



the enemy's galleys, and thnist down into the hold. At night the 
officei'S began to drink and sing, and kept it up till twelve o'clock, 
when, by wav of {relic, they had him brouglit, though sick, into 
their cabin, held a ccm*t mariial over him, sentenced him to 
death, very deliberately executed^ the sentence by stabbing him 
with bayonets, and then tlirew his mangled body into tlic rivel 
Cor tlie &hai-ks and crabs to devour . 



«28 THE LIFE OF 

youth of each district, gathering around their own 
brave colonei, rushed to battle. But though seemingly 
blind and headlong as their own mountain streams 
yet there was a hand unseen that guided their course, 
rhey all met, 6'.v bij chcuice^ near the King's moun« 
tain, where the ill-fated Ferguson encamped. Their 
numbers counted, made three thousand. That the 
work and victory m.ay be seen to be of God, they 
5f.nt back all but one thousand chosen men. 

A thousand men on mountains b^et'-, 

"V^'itli rifles all so bright, 
Who knew full well, in time of need, 

To aim their guns aright. 

At parting, the ruddy warriors shook hands with 
their returning friends, and sent their love. '' Tell 
oui fathers," said they, "" that we shall think of them, 
jn the battle, and draw our sights the truer !''^ 

Then led on by the brave colonels Campbell, Cleve- 
land, Shelby, Sevier, and Williams, they ascended the 
hill and comm.enced the attack. Like Sinai of old, the 
top of the mountain was soon M'rapped in smoke and 
flames ; the leaden deaths came whizzing from all 
quarters ; and in forty minutes Ferguson was slain, 
and the whole of his party killed, wounded or taken* 

To avenge this mortifying blow, Cornwallis des- 
patched colonel Tarleton with thirteen hundred and 
fifty picked troops, against Morgan, who had but 
nine hundred men, and these more than half militia. 
At the first onset, the militia fled, leaving Morgan 
with only four hundred to contend against thirteen 
hundred and fifty, rushing on furiously as to certain 
victory. What spectator of this scene must not have 
given up all for lost, and with tears resigned this lit- 
tle forlorn, to that unsparing slaughter which colonel 
Tarleton delighted in ? But, contrary t® all human 
expectation, the devoted handful stood their ground, 
and, in a short time, killed and captured aearly the 
whole of their proud assailants ! 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 229 

Raging like a wounded tiger, Cornwallis destroys 
all his heavy baggage, and pushes hard after Morgan. 
I'he pursuit is urged with unimaginable fury: and 
Cornwallis gains so fast upon the Americans, encum- 
bf'vcd with their prisoners, that on the evening of the 
ninth day he came up to the banks of the Catawba, 
just as Morgan's rear had crossed at a deep ford. 
Before the wished-for morning returned, the river 
was so sv^olien by a heavy rain, that Cornwallis could 
not pass. Adoring the hand of Heaven, the Ameri- 
cans continued their flight. On the morning of the 
third day, Cornwallis renev/ed the pursuit with redou 
bled fury, and by the ninth evening, came up to the 
banks of the Yadkin, just as Morgan's last rifle corp\ 
was about to take the ford. ' Presently the rain came 
rushing down in torrents, and by the morning light 
the furious river was impassable ! Who so blind as 
not to acknowledge the hand of God in all this ? 

Soon as he could get over, the wrathful Cornwallis 
renewed the pursuit ; but before he could overtake 
them at Gut Iclford court-house^ the Americans, joined 
by their countrymen, gave him battle, and killed on*^ 
third of his army. Cornwallis then, in turn, fled bc« 
fore the Americans ; and as he had outmarched them 
before, he outran them now, and escaped safely to 
Wilmington. With largely recruited force he re- 
turned to Virginia, where four hundred deluded men, 
(tcries) under colonel Pyles, came forward to join 
him. On their way they fell in with Col. Lee and his 
legion. Mistaking thern for Tarleton and his cavalry, 
they \iave tiieir hats and cry out, *^ God save the 
king! God save the king!" Lee encourages the mis- 
take, until they are all intermixed with his dragoons, 
who at a signal given, dravv' their swords and hew the 
wretches to pieces. Only one hundred make their 
escape. Tliee^e tall in, the next day, with colonel 
Tarleton, v.iio, raistak.ng them for what he called 
^ damned rebels," ordered his troops to charge^ which 
ihey did J and regardless of their repeated cries, that 



230 THE LIFE OF 

•* they were the king's best friends," put most of then* 
to death. 

Thus wondeifully did God bafile lord Cornvvallis, 
and visit a sudden and bloody destruction upon those 
unnatural wretches, who were going forth to plunge 
their swords into the bowels of their own country ! 

After this, being joined by all the British troops in 
that quarter, he rolled on like an angry flood to Wil- 
liamsburgh and York, where God sent his servant 
Washington, who presently captured him and his 
fleet and army, near ten thousand strong. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 



The British evacuate Charleston — great joy of the, 
citizens — patriotism of the Charleston ladies, 

AS when a lion that has long kept at bay the fierce 
assaulting shepherds, receives at last his mortal wound, 
suddenly the monster trembles under the deadly 
stroke ; and, sadly howling, looks around with wistful 
eye towards his native v/oods. Such was the shock 
given to the British, when the sword of heaven-aided 
justice struck down the bloody Cornwallis. With 
him fell the hopes of the enemy throughout our state. 

In Charleston, their officers were seen standing to- 
gether in groups, shaking their heads as they talked 
of the dreadful news. While those who had marched 
up so boldly into the country, now panic-struck, were 
every where busied in demolishing their works, blow- 
ing up their magazines, and hurrying back to town in 
the utmost dismay. Hard pressing upon the rear, 
we followed the steps of their flight, joyfully chasing 
them from a country which they had stained with 
blood, and pursuing them to the very gates of Charles- 
ton. As we approached the ^ity, our eyes were pre- 
sented with scenes of desolation sufficient to damp all 
hearts, and to inspire the deepest sense of the horror* 



GEN, FRAKCIS iVURION. 231 

of war. Robbed of all animal and vegetable life, the 
neighbouring plantations seemed but as dreary de- 
serts, compared with what they once were, when, co- 
vered with sportive flocks and herds, and rice and 
corn, they smiled with plenteousness and joy. In the 
fields, the eyes beheld no sign of cheerful crops, nor 
in the woods any shape of living beast or bird, except 
a few mournful buzzards, silently devouring the un- 
buried flesh of some poor wretched mortals, who had 
fallen in the late rencontres between the English and 
Americans. Indeed, had those days continued, no flesh 
could have been saved ; but blessed be God, who 
shortened them, by chastising the aggressors (the 
British) as we have seen. 

On the memorable 14th of December, 1782, we en- 
tered and took possession of our capital, after it had 
been two years seven months and two days in the 
hands of the enemy. The style of our entry was 
quite novel and romantic. On condition of not being 
molested while embarking, the British had ofl'ered to 
leave the town unhurt. Accordingly, at the firing of 
a signal gun in the morning, as agreed on, they quit- 
ted their advanced works, near the town gate, while 
the Americans, moving on close in the rear, follow- 
ed them all along through the city down to the 
water's edge, where they embarked on board their 
three hundred ships, which, moored out in the bay in 
the shape of an immense half moon, presented a most 
magnificent appearance. 

The morning was as lovely as pure wintry air and 
cloudless sunbeams could render it ; but rendered far 
lovelier still by our procession^ if I may so call it, 
which was well calculated to awaken the most plea- 
surable feelings. In front, were the humble remains 
of that proud army, which, one and thirty months ago, 
captured our city, and thence, \\\ the drunkenness of 
victory, had hurled menaces and cruelties disgraceful 
to the British name:—^A\\(\. close in the rear, was 
oar band of patriots, bending forward with martial 



23^ THE LIFE OF 

music and flying colours, to play the last joyful act m 
the drama oflheir country's deliverance ; to proclaim 
libfTtv lo the cantive ; to recall the smile on the cheek 
of aorrow; and to make the heart ci the widow leap 
for joy. Numbers, who, for years, had been confined 
to a single room in their own elegant h(>uses, could 
now throw open their long-locked doors, and breathe 
and walk at large in these beloved apartments, irom 
which they had been so long excluded. Numbers, 
who, for years, had mourned their separation from 
children, wives, and sires, were now seen rushing, 
with trembling joy, to the long-coveted embrace. Oh ' 
it was a day of jubilee indeed ! a day of rejoicing 
never to be forgotten. Smiles and tears were on every 
face. For who could remain unmoved, when they saw 
the little children running v/ith outstretched arms to 
embrace their long absent fathers ; when they saw the 
aged trembling v/ith years and aifection, clasping their 
warrior sons, glorious in arms, and those sons, vv^ith 
pleasure-sparkling eyes, returning the pious embrace. 
and congratulating the deliverance of their fathets ; 
while all along the streets, as we moved in clouds of 
joy-rolling dust, nothing v/as to be heard but shouts 
of, Liberty and America tor ever; and nothing 
was to be seen but crov/ds of citizens shaking hands 
and thanking God for bringing them to see that hap- 
py day. And to crown all, on both sides of us, as we 
marched in shining rows, stood our beauteous coun- 
try women, mingling their congratulations. The day 
was precious to all, but none I believe enjoyed it so 
highly as did the ladies of Charleston. Being, great 
numbers of them at least, v/omen of fortune and libe- 
ral education, they had early discovered the deformi- 
ty of lord North's enslaving principles, " iinconditi07id\ 
taxation^'' which they abhorred v.'orse than the yav/s ; 
and hating the measure, they could not but dislike the 
men who were come to execute it. In common with 
their sex, they were sufhciemiy partial to soldiers of 
honour. But alas ! they were not permitted the ple;*^ 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 

sure to contemplate the British In that prepossessing 
light. On the contrary, compelled to view them as 
mere ^q-h ting" machmes^ venal wretches, who for pay 
and ]:)lunder, had degraded the man into the brute, 
tne Briton into the buccaneer, how could they 
otherwise than detest them ? 

Nor were the manners of the British officers at all 
calculated to remove those antipathies. Coming to 
America, under the impression that the past genera- 
tion were convicts^ and the present rebels^ they looked 
on and treated their daughters only as pretty Creoles^ 
whom it was doing great honour to smile on ! 

But this prejudice against the British officers, found- 
t(\.Jirst on their sordidness^ then, secondly^ fed by their 
insolence^ was, thirdly and lastly^ matured l^y their 
cruelty. To see the heads of their first families, 
without even a charge of crime, dragged from their 
beds at midnight, and packed off like slaves to St. 
Augustine ; to see one of their most esteemed coun- 
trymen, the amiable colonel Haynes, hang up like a 
dog befoie their eyes ; and to hear continuallv, from 
all parts, ov the horrid house-burnings and murders 
committed by Kawdon, Tarleton, \V'eymies, and their 
toryand negro allies, filled up the measure of female 
detestation of the British officers. They scorned to 
be seen in the same public walks with them ; would 
not touch a glove or snuff-box from their hands ; and 
in short, turned away from them as from the com- 
monest felons or cut-threats. And on the other hand, 
to be treated thus by buckskin girh\ the rebel daught- 
ers of convict parents, was more than the British offi- 
cers could put up with. The whig ladies, of course, 
were often insulted, and that very grossly too ; and 
not only often threatened, but actually thrown into the 
frovost or bastile. No wonder then that they were 
nrghly delighted to see such rude enemies, after re- 
peated overthrows in the countr)'-, chased back to 
town, and theiice, covered ^vivb disgi-ace, embarking 
to leave the country for ever. No wonder that, on 
V2 



THE LIFE OF 

hearing of our line of march tliat morning, they ha^ 
decked themselves in their richest habi4:s, and at the 
first sound of our drums, flew to their doors, windowsv, 
and balconies, to welcome our return. 

Never before had thev appeared half so charmiiig. 
Sv/eet are the flowers of the liekl at every season ot 
the year, but doubly sweet, when, after long icy win- 
*er, they spread all their blossoms to the sprinj^tide 
sun. Even so the daughters of Charleston, though 
always fair, yet never seemed so passing fair as now, 
when after sustaining the long wintry storms of Bri- 
tish oppression, they came forth m all their patriot 
charms to greet the welcon;e beams of returning li- 
berty. And never shall I forget the accents of those 
lovely lips, which, from behind their waving handker- 
chiefs, that but half concealed their angel blushes, 
exclaiming, " God bless you, gentlemen ! God bless 
you ! welcome ! welcome to your homes xigain !" 



CHAPTER XXX. 

Marion returns to his plcmtation — is appointed a mem" 
her of the legislature — some valuable anecdotes oj 
him — his marriage — and retirement. 

AFTER the retreat of the British from Carolina, 
Marion sheathed his ^wordfir lacJc of argument^ and 
went up to cultivate his little plantation in St. John's 
parish, where he was born. But the gratitude of his 
countrv'men did not long allow him to enjoy the 
sweets of that rural life, of which he v/as uncom- 
monly fond. At the next election, he was in some 
sort compelled to stand as a candidate for the legisla- 
ture, to which, by an unanim.ous voice, he was sent, 
to aid with his coimsel, the operations of that govern- 
ment, to whose freedom his sword had so largely con- 
tributed. The friends of humanity were all highly 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 

f!>Heasevl with his call to the legislature. From his well 
known generosity to bis enemies, during the war, the} 
fondly hoped he would do every thing in his powei 
.to extinguish that horrid flame of revenge, which still 
glovy'cd in the bosoms of many against the tories. Nor 
did .Marion disappoint their hopes. His face was al- 
ways, and undauntedUv, set against every proposition 
that savoured of severity to the tories, whom he used 
to call his " poor deluded countrymen." The reader 
may form some idea of general Marion from the fol- 
lowing anecdote, which was related to me by the 
honourable Benjamin liuger, Esq. 

During the furious contests in South Carolina, 
between the British and Americans, it was very com- 
mon for men of property to play jack of both sic/eSj 
for the sake of saving their negroes and cattle. — 
Among these, a pretty numerous crew, was a wealthy 
old blade, who had the advantage of one of those very 
accommodating faces, that could shine with equal 
lustre on his victorious visitants, whether Britons or 
buckskins. Marion soon found him out ; and as ijoon 
gave him a broad hint how heartily he despised such 
trimming: for at a great public meeting where the 
old gentleman, v/ith a smirking fai?e, came up and 
presented his hand, Marion turned from him without 
deigning to receive it. Everybody was surprised ai 
this conduct of the general, and some spoke of it in 
terms of high displeasure. However, it was not long 
before they caught the old weathercock at one of his 
tricks, and, soon as the confiscation act was passed, 
had him down on the black list^ fondly hoping, no 
doubt, to divide alarge spoil. Marion, who was then 
a member of the legislatu/e, arose to speak. The aged 
culprit, who also was present, turned pale and trem- 
bled at the Sight of Marion, giving up all for lost.— 
But how great, hov/ agreeable was his surprise, when 
instead of hearing the general thundering against him 
for judgment, he heard hini imploring for mercy! 
pis accusers were, if possible, still, more astonished 



.W6 THE LIFE OF 

Having counted on general Marion as his firmest foe 
they were utterly mortified to find him his fastest 
friend, and, venting their passion with great freedom, 
taxed him with inconsistency and fickleness that but 
illy suited with general Marion's character. 

" It is scarcely eighteen months, sir," said they, 
" since you treated this old rascal with the most 
pointed and public contempt, on account of the very 
crime for which we wish to punish him. And here, 
now, instead of taking part against him, you have 
declared in his favour, and have become his warmest 
advocate with a legislature." 

*'True, gentlemen," replied Marion, "but you 
should remember that it was war then ; and there- 
fore my duty to make a difference between the real 
and pretended friends of my country. But it \s peace 
now, and we ought to remember the virtues of men, 
particularly of the old and timid, rather than their 
fellies. And we ought to remember too, that God 
has given us the victory, for which we owe him eter- 
nal gratitude. But cruelty to man is not the way to 
show our gratitude to heaven." 

Of the same complexion was his behaviour in a 
large partv at governor Matthew's table, just aft«r 
the passage of the famous act to confiscate the estates 
of tlie tories. " Ccme, general, ^^ive us a toa.yt^^ said the 
governor. The glasses were all filled, and the eyes 
of the company fixed upc^n the general, who, waving 
his bumpei in the air, thus nobly called out — " Welly 
^entlerrjioi., here'^s damnation to the confiscation actP 

The following anecdote of Marion I have heard 
from a thousand lips, and every time with that joy 
on the countenance, which evinced the deep interest 
which the heart takes in talking of things that are 
honourable to our countrvmen. 

While Marion was a member of the legislature, a 
petition was presented to the house for an act of am," 
nestij of all those arbitrary measures which the Ame- 
rican ofiicers had been obliged to adopt during the war^ 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. ?37 

iirfi order to get horses, provisions, he. for the arm^' 
The petition was signed by the names of all the favou- 
rite ofiicers of the state, and among the rest, by that of 
our hero. Some of his friends, it seemed, had done it 
for him, on the supposition that he needed such an 
act as v/eil as the rest. But Marion, who had listened 
very attentively to the reading of the petition, on hear- 
ing his name mentioned as one of the subscribers, in- 
stantly arose, and insisted that his name should be 
struck off from that paper. He said " he had no manner 
of objection to the petition ; on the contrary, he most 
heartily approved of it, and meant to vote for it ; foi 
well did he know, he said, that during the war, we 
had among us a world of ig-7ior amuses, who, for lack 
of knowing their danger, did not care a lig how the 
war went, but were sauntering about in the woods, 
popping at the squirrels, when they ought to have 
been in the field fi;ghting the British ; that such gen- 
tlemen, since they did not choose to do any thing for 
their country themselves; might v/ell afford to let theii 
cattle do something; and as they had not shed any of 
their blood for the public service, they might certainly 
spare a little corn to it: at any rate he had no notion, 
he said, of turning over to the mercy of these pol- 
troons, some of the choicest spirits of the nation, to 
be prosecuted and torn to pieces by them ; but that, 
nevertheless, he did not like to have his name to the 
petition, for, thank God, he had no favours to ask of 
them. And if, during the war for his country, he had 
done any of them harm, there was he, and yonder 
his propertif, and let them come forruard, if they darc^ 
and demand satisfaction.'''* 

And I never heard of any man who ever accused 
him of the least injury done him during all the war, 

Marion continued a member of the legislature, un- 
til orders were issued to repair and put in commission 
Fcrt Joh?ison, to the command of which he was ap- 
pointed, with the pay of about twenty-two hundred 
dollars per annum. Though this salary had been 



238 THE LIFE OP 

votea him chiefly because of his losses during the Wr* 
yet it was not continued to him longer than two oi 
three years, when it was reduced to less than five hun- 
dred dollars annually. Numbers of people had theii 
feelings greatly hurt on this occasion, and, I dare say^ 
much worse than his own. For he was a man who 
caied very little for money; and besides, about that 
time he entered into matrimony with that excellent 
and wealthy lady, Miss Mary Videau, who, with her 
affections, bestowed on him a fortune sufficient to sa- 
tisfy his utmost wishes, even though they had been 
far less moderate than they were. Seeing now no par* 
ticular obligation on him to continue longer in the 
public service, he gladly yielded to his sense of what 
he owed to a generous and beloved companion, and 
with her, retired to his native parish of St. John's, 
where, amidst the benedictions of his countrymen^ 
and the caresses of numerous friends, he spent the 
short remnant of his days, participating every rural 
sweet with the dear woman of his choice, feasting on 
the happy retrospect of a life passed in fighting for 
THE RIGHTS OF MAN, and fondly cherishing the hopes 
of a better. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 



TTie author'*s last visit to Marion-^-znterestlnq' convert 
sation on the importance of public injtt ruction-^ 
free schools shown to be a great saving to a na* 
tion. 

I OFTEN went to see Marlon. Our evenings were 
pv.ssed as might have been expected between two old 
friends, who had spent their better days together in 
scenes of honourable enterprise and danger. On the 
mght of tJie last visit I ever made him, observing that 
the clock was going for ten, I asked him if it were 
not near his hour o^ -^t. 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 239 

• Oh no," said he, " wc must not talk of bed yet, 
It is but seldom, you know, that we meet. And as 
this may be our last^ let us take all we can of it in 
chat. What do you think of the times .^" 

" O glorious times," said I. 

" Yes, thank God !" replied he. " They are glorious 
times indeed ; and fully equal to all that we had in 
hope, when we drew our swords for independence. 
But I am afraid they won't last long." 

I asked him why he thought so. 

" Oh ! knowledge, sir," said he, " is wanting ! know- 
ledge is wanting ! Israel of old, you know, was de^' 
atroyedfor lack of knoxvledge ; and all nations, all in- 
dividuals, have come to naught from the same cause." 

I told him I thought we were too happy to change 
so soon. 

" Pshaw !" replied he, " that is nothing to the pur- 
pose. Happiness signifies nothing, if it be not knoxvriy 
and properly valued, Satan, we are told, was once 
an angel of light, but for want of duly considering his 
glorious state, he rebelled and lost all. And how 
many hundreds of young Carolinians have we not 
known, whose fathers left them all the means of hap- 
piness ; elegant estates, handsome wives, and, in 
shoit, every blessing that the most lidxurious could 
desire ? Yet they could not rest, until by drinking 
and gambling'^ they had fooled away their fortunes, 
parted from their wives, and rendered themselves the 
veriest beggars and blackguards on earth. 

" Now, why was all this, but for lack of knowledge? 
For had those silly ones but known the evils of pover- 
ty, what a vile thing it was to wear a dirty shirt, a 
long beard, and ragged coat; to go without a dinner, 
or to spunge for it among growling relations ; or to 
be bespattered, or run over in the streets, by the sons 
of those who were once their fathers' overseers ; I say, 
had those poor boobies, in the days of their prospe- 
rity, known these things as they now do^ would they 
have squandered away the precious means of inde- 



240 THE LIFE OF 

pendence and pleasure, and have brought themselves 
to all this shame and sorrow? No, never, never, never. 

"And so it is, most exactly, v/ith nations. If thos^ 
that 2iVQfyee and happy ^ did but know their blessings, 
do you think they would ever exchange them for 
slavery? If the Carthagenians, for example, in the 
days of their freedom and self-government, when they 
obeyed no laws but of their own making ; paid no 
taxes, but for their own benefit ; and, free as air, pur- 
sued their own interest as they liked ; I say, if that 
once glorious and happy people had known their 
blessings, v/ould they have sacrificed them ail, by 
their accursed factions.^ to tlie Romans, to be ruled, 
they and their children, with a rod of iron ; to be bur- 
dened like beasts, and crucified like malefactors ? 

" No, surely they would not. 

" Well, now to bring this home to ourselves. We 
fought for self-government ; and God hath pleased to 
give us one, better calculated perhaps to protect our 
rights^ to foster our virtues^ to call forth our energies, 
and to advance our condition nearer to perfection 
and happiness, than any government that was ever 
framed under the sun. 

" But what signifies even this government, divine 
as it is, if it be not known and prized as it deserves ?" 

I asked him how he thought this was best to be 
done ? 

"Wliy, certainly," replied he^^'^hy free schoohJ^^ 

I shook my head. 

He observed it, and asked me what I meant by 
that ? 

I told him I was afraid the legislature would look 
to their popularity, and dread the expense. 

He exclaimed, " God preserve our legislature from 
such ^ pcnnif tuit and pound foolishness P What sir! 
keep a nation in ignorance, rather than vote a little 
of their own money for education ! Only let such poli- 
ticians remember, what poor Carolina has already 
tost through her ignorance* What was it that brought 



GEV FRANXIS MARION. 241 

the Br'ulsb, lusi war, to Carolina, but her lack of 
hio'iuiedf^e ? Had the people been enlightened, they 
would have been united; and had they been united, 
they never would have been attacked a second time by 
the British. For aivtr that drub'oing they got from 
us at Tort Moultrie, ui 17r6, they would as soon have 
•attacked the devil as have attacked Carolina aj^ain, 
had they no< heard that they were ' a houne divided 
Qi^^ainat it.sflfp or in other words, had amongst us a 
great num'tjer of Tories ; men, who, through mere 
ignorance, were disaffected to the cause of liberty, and 
ready to join the iiritish against their own country- 
men. Tluis, ignorance begat toryism, and toryism 
begat losses in Carolina, of wliich few have any idea. 

" According to the best accounts, America spent 
fti the last war, seventy millions of dollars, which, 
divided among the states according to their popula- 
tion, gives to Ca/'>iJna about eight millions ; making, 
as the war lasted eight years, a million a year. Now, 
it is generally i;dicvcd, the British, after their loss of 
Burgoyne and their fine northern army, wotdd soon 
nave given up the contest, had it not been for the foot- 
nold they got in Carolina, which protracted the war 
at least two years longer. And as this two years' 
ruinous war in Carolina was owing to the encourage- 
ment the enemy got there, anrl that encouragement to 
tor)-ism,and thattorylsm to ignorance, ignorance maj 
fairly he debited to two rriilliuns of loss to Carolina. 

" VVcll, in th.ese tv/o f xtia years of tory-begotten 

war, Carolina lost", at least four thousand men ; and 

among them, a Laun'i.s^ a IViliiams^ a Campbell^ a 

H'.(uuf.s\ and many others, whose worth not the gold 

o^ ();yh)r couKl value. But rated at the price at which 

the prince of Hesse sold his people to George the 

Third, to shoot the Americans, say, thirty pounds 

sterling ahead, or one hundred and fifty dollars, they 

make six luiiKhed thousand dollars, llien count th<r 

nventy-five thousand slaves which Caripiina cert 

IcKjt, and each slave at the moderate price of ihr 
W 



242 THE LIFE OF 

hundred dollars, and yo^ have seven millions five 
hundred thousand. To this add the houses, barns, 
and stables that were bu^it ; the plate plundered ; the 
furniture lost; the hoga sheep and horned cattle kill- 
ed; the rice, corn and other crops destroyed, and 
they amount, at the most moderate calculation, to live 
millions. 

" Now, to say nothing of those losses, which can- 
not be rated by dollars and cents, such as the destruc- 
tion of ?norals and the distraction of childless parents 
and widows, but counting those only that are of the 
plainest calculations," such as, 

1st. Carolina's loss in the extra two> s^o non OOO 
year's war, $ »^ > > 

2d. For her four thousand citizens 7 -^^ -.^^ 

, . . , ^ ^. 5- 600,000 

slam in that time, 3 

3d, For twenty-live thousand slaves 7 •rtnrkrvv> 

lost, 3 ' ' 

4th. For buildings, furniture, cattle, ") ^ ^^ ^, - 

grain, he. he. destroyed, J ' ' 

S15,100,00C 



Making the enormous sum of fifteen millions and 
odd dollars capital; and bearing an annual interest 
of nearly ten hundred ihousancl. dollars besides! and 
ail this K)r lack of a lew free schools, which would 
have cost the state a mere nothing/' 

I sighed, and told him I wished he had not broach- 
cd the subject, for it h;id nuule me very sud. 

" Yes,'' replied be, *' it is enough in make any ont 
sad. But it cannot ")e heli.^ed but by a wist-r cr-urse- 
of things ; for, if r-eop e will not do wh.at will inak*- 
them ha])py, («c)d will suitl\' chastise thcFU ; and this 
dreadful loss of nuLli'. proi)ertv is one tokt^ti ot bib 
displeasure at our ncg ect of public instruction.*'' 

I asked him if this wire realh*- hi- belicl. '" Yes. 
sir,'' replied he^ i/ilh ^ real cariicstness, "" it ir. v-.y be- 
lief, and 1 woulij not exchange it for wuihls. li is 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 243 

my firm belief, that every evil under the sun is of the 
nature of chastisement, and appointed of the infi- 
nitely good Being for our benefit. When you see a 
youth, who, but lately, was the picture of bloom and 
manly beauty, now utterly withered and decayed ; his 
body bent; his teeth dropping out; his nose consum- 
ed ; with foetid breath, ichorous eyes, and his whole 
appearance most putrid, ghastly, and loatnsome, you 
are tilled with pity and with horror ; you can hardly 
believe there is a God, or hardly refrain from charg- 
ing him with cruelty. But, where folly raves, wisdom 
adores. In this awful scourge of lawless lust^ wisdom 
discerns the infinite price which heaven sets on con- 
jugal purity and love. In like manner, the enormous 
sacrifice of public property, in the last war, being no 
more, as before observed, than the natural effect of 
public ignorance^ ought to teach us that of all sinsy 
there is none so hateful to God as national ignorance ; 
that unf^iiling spring oi national ingratitude, 

REBELLION, SLAVERY, and WRETCHEDNESS ! 

" But if it be melancholy to think of so many ele 
gant houses, rich furniture, fat cattle, and precious 
crops, destroyed for want of that patriotism which 9 
true knowledge of our interests would have inspired: 
then how much more melancholy to think of thos<f 
torrents of precious blood that were shed, those cruel 
slaughters and massacres, that took place among tlK 
citi/.cns f.-oni the same cause ! As proof th;)t such hell- 
ish tragedies would never have been acted, had ou) 
state but i)een enlightened, oulv let us look at the peo- 
ple of New England. From Britain, their father!^ had 
fled to America for religion's sake. Religion had 
taught them that God credited men to be hdppij ; that 
%o be haj.ipy they must have virtua ; that virtue is not 
vo be attained without knoiui^dge^ nor knowledge with- 
out in.sfnntio'}., nor public instruetion v/ithout Jree 
schools^ nor free schools without Ifgislativt^ O'-ikr. 

'*■ Among a people who fear God, the knowledge of 
f^ity is tile same as doing it. Believing it to be th« 



244 THE LIFE OF 

first command of God, " let there be light;" and be- 
lieving it to be the will of God that" all should be in- 
structed, from the least to the greatest," these wise 
legislators at once set about public instruction. They 
did not ask, how will my constituents like this ? won't 
they turn me out ? shall I not lose my three dollars 
per day ? No ! but full)-- persuaded that public instruc- 
tion is God's will, because the people's good, they set 
about it like the true friends of the people. 

" Now mark the happy consequence. When the 
war broke out, you heard of no division in New Eng- 
land, no toryism, nor any of its horrid elTects ; no 
houses in flames, kindled by the hands of fellow-citi- 
zens, no neighbours waylaying and shooting their 
neighbours, plundering their property, carrying off 
their stock, and aiding the British in the cursed work 
of American murder and subjugation. But on the con- 
trary, with minds well informed of their rights, and 
hearts glowing with love for themselves and posteri- 
ty, they rose up against the enemy, firm and united, 
as a band of shepherds against the ravening wolves. 

" And their valour in the field gave glorious proof 
how men will fight when they know that their all is at 
stake. See major Pitcaini, on the memorable 19th of 
April 1775, marching from Boston, with one thousand 
British regulars, to burn the American scores at Con- 
cord. Though this heroic excursion was commenced 
under cover of the night, the farmers soon took the 
alarm, and gathering around them with their fowling 
pieces, presently knocked down one-fou.'th of their 
number, and caused the rest to run, as if, like the 
swine in the gospel, they had a legion of demls ai 
their hacks. 

" Now, with sorrowful eyes, let us turn to our owtt 
sta-te, where no pains were ever taken to enlighten the 
minds of the poor. There we have seen a j)eople na- 
turally as brave as the New Englanciers, for mere 
lack of knowledge of their bleasings posst\-:.secl^ of the 
dangers threatened^ sufFex lord Cornv/allis, with 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 244f 

otify sixteen hundred men, to chase general Greene 
upwards of three hundred miles ! In fact, to scout 
him through the two great states of South and North 
Carolina as far as Guildford court-house ! and, when 
Greene, joined at that place by two thousand poor 
illiterate militia-men, determined at length to fight, 
what did he gain by them, with all their number, but 
disappointment and disgrace ? For, though posted 
very advantageously behind the corn-field fences, they 
could not stand a single fire from the British, but in 
spite of their officers, broke and fled like base-born 
slaves, leaving their loaded muskets sticking in the 
fence corners ! 

" But, from this shameful sight, turn again to the 
iVind of free schools ; to Bunker's Hill. There, be- 
hind a poor ditch of half a night's raising, you be- 
hold fifteen hundred militia-men waiting the approach 
of three thousand British regulars xvith a heavy train 
of artillery ! With such odds against them, such fear- 
ful odds in numbers, discipline., arms, and martial 
fame, will they not shrink from the contest, and, 
like their southern friends, jump up and run ! Oh no ; 
to a man they have been taught to read; to a man 
thev have been instructed to knoiv^ and dearer than 
life to prize, the blessings of treedom. Their bodies 
are lying behind ditches, but their thoughts are on 
the v/ing, darting through eternity. The warning 
voice of God still rings in their ears. The hated 
forms of proud merciless kings pass before their eyes. 
They look back to the days of old, and strengthen 
themselves as they think what their gallant forefathers 
dared for liberty and for them. They looked 
forward to their own dear children, and yearn over 
die unofFending millions, now, in tearful eyes, looking 
up to them for protection. And shall this infinite 
host of deathless beings, created in God's own image, 
and capable by virtue and equal laws, of endless 
progression in glory and happiness ; shall they be ar- 
rested in their high career, and from the frettbom 
W2 



846 THE LIFE OF 

sons of God, be degraded into the slaves of man I 
Maddening at the accursed thought, they grasp their 
avenging firelocks, and drawing their sights along 
the death-charged tubes, they long for the coining up 
of the British thousands. Three times the British 
tliousands came up ; and three times the dauntless 
yeomen, waiting their near approach, rectived them 
in storms of thunder and lightning that shivered theii 
*"anks, an-d heaped the field with their weltering car- 
casses. 

*'In short, my dear sir, men will always fight for 
their government, according to their sense of its 
value. To value it aright, they must understand it. 
This they cannot do without education. And as a 
large portion of the citizens are poor, and can never 
attain that inestimable blessing, without the aid of 
government, it is plainly the first duty of government 
to bestow it freely upon them. And the more per- 
fect the government, the greater the duty to make it 
well known. Selfish and oppressive governments, in- 
deed, as Christ observes, must " hate the light, and 
fear to come to it, because their deeds are evil." But 
a fair and cheap government, like our republic, " longs 
for the light, and rejoices to come to the light, thai 
it may be manifested to be from God." and well 
worth all the vigilance and valour that an enlightened 
nation can rally /or its defence. And, God knows, 
a good government can hardly ever be half anxious 
enough to give its citizens a thorough knowledge of 
its own excellencies. For as some of the most valu- 
able truths, for lack of careful promulgation, have 
been lost ; so the best government on earth, if not 
duly known and prized, may be subverted. Ambi- 
tious demagogues will rise, and the people, through 
ignorance^ and love of change^ will follow them. 
Vast armies will be formed, and bloody battles fought 
And after desolating their country with all the hor- 
rors of civil war, the guilty svu'vivors will have tc 
bend their necks to the iron yoke of some stern 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. Ul 

t«#iirper, ar.d like beasts of burden, to drag, unpiiied, 
ihose galiin^ chains which they huve riveted upon 
themselves for ever." 

This, as nearly as I can recollect, v/as the substance 
of the lafit dhilo^ifue I ever had with Marion. It waa 
spoken v/ith an empliasis which 1 shall never forget. 
Indeed he described the glorious action at Bunker's 
Hill, as though he had been one of the combatants. 
His agitation was great, his voice became altered and 
broken; and his face kindled over with that living 
fire with which it was v/orc to Inirn, when he entered 
the battles of his country. I arose from my seat as he 
Bpoke ; and on recovering from the magic of his 
tongue, found myself bending forward to the voice 
of my friend, and my right hand stretched iw my 
side ; it was stretched to my side for the sword that 
was wo-nt to burn in the presence of Marion when 
battle rose, and the crowding foe was darkening 
around us. * But thanks to God, 'twas sweet delusion 
all. No sword hung burning by my side ; no crowd- 
ing foe darkened around us. In dust or in chains they 
had all vanished away, and bright in his scabbard 
rested the swoid cX peace in my own pleasant halls 
OD Winyaw bay. 



24S THE LIFE OF 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

ITie death of Marion — his character* 

** Next to Washin^on, O c^lorious shade I 
" (n page liistoric shiiU thy name have place, 

** Deep on thy country's memory are portrayed 
** Those gallant deeds wliich time shall ne'er erase. 

" Ah ! full of honours^ and of years, farewell ! 

" Thus o'er thy tomb shall Carolina sigh ; 
*' Each tongue thy valour and thy worth shall tell, 

^ Which taught the young to Jight^ tlie old to die." 

THE next morning, I set out for my plantation or 
VVinyaw bay. Marion, as usual, accompanied me to 
my horse, and, at parting, begged I would come and 
see him again soon^ for that he felt he had not long 
to stay. As the reader may suppose, I paid but little 
heed to this expression, which I looked on as no more 
than the common cant of the aged. But I soon had 
cause to remember it with sorrow. For I had been 
but a few weeks at home, before, opening a Charles- 
ton paper, I found in a mourning column, "The 
DEATH OF GENERAL Marion." Ncvcr shall I for- 
get the heart-sickness of that moment ; never forget 
what I felt when first I learned that Marion was no 
more. Though the grave v/as between us, yet his be- 
loved image seemed to appear before me fresher than 
ever. All our former friendships, all our former wars 
returned. But alas ! he who was to me the soul of all 
the rest ; the foremost in every battle ; the dearest at 
every feast ; he shall return no more ! " Oh Marion, 
my friend !" my bursting heart seem.ed to say, " and 
art thou gone ? Shall I no mere hear that voice which 
v/as always so sv/eet ; no more see that smile which 
awakened up such joy in my soul ! Must that beloved 
form be lost forever among the clods of the valley! 
And those godlike virtues, shall they pass away like 
die empty visions of the night !" 



GEN. FRANCIS MARION. 249 

From this deep gloom which strong atheistic sor- 
row had poured over my nerves, I was suddenly 
roused, as by an angePs touch, to the bright hopes of 
religion. The virtues of my departed friend all il.jsh- 
ed at once upon my kindling thoughts; his counte- 
nance so stern with honour; his tongue so sacred to 
truth ; that heart always so ready to meet death in 
defence of the injured; that eye ever beaming bene- 
volence to man, and that whole life so reverential of 
God. The remembrance, 1 say, of all these things, 
came in streams of joy to rny heart. 

" O happy Marion I'' I exclaimed, " thcu art safe, 
my friend ; thcu art safe. No tears of mine shal 
doubt thy blissful state. Surely rf there be a God, 
and tliat there is, all nature cries aloud through all 
her v/orks, he must delight in virtue, and what he de- 
lights in must be happy." 

Then it was, that i felt %'/hat a benefactor Marion 
had been to me. How dear his company while liv- 
ing ; l)OW sweet his memory when dead. Like the 
sun travelling in brightness, his smiles had ever been 
my joy, his example my light. And though now set 
in the grave, yet has he not left me in darkness. His 
vhrtnefi^ like stars, are lighted up after him. The)' 
point my hopes to the path of glory ; and proclaim, 
that, though fallen, he is not extinguished. 

From the physicians and many others who attend- 
ed him in his last illness, I learned that he had rlied 
as he had lived, a truly great man. His chamber 
was not, as is usual with dying persons, a scene of 
gloom and silent distress, but rather like the cheerful 
parlour of one who was setting out on an agreea})]e 
journey. " Some," said he, "have spoken of death 
as a lerxji in the dark; but for my part, I look on it 
as a v/elcome ;T.s7/;i_^ /j/.'/fr, where virtuous old age 
may throw down his pains and aches, wipe oil his ohl 
scores, and begin anew on an innocent and happy state 
that shall last for ever. What weakness to wish to 
live to such ghastly dotaj5;e, as to frighten the chil- 



S50 THE MFE OF 

dren, and make even the dogs to 'vaik at us as we 
totter along the streets. Most certainly then, there is 
a time when, to a good man^ death is a great mercy 
even to his body ; and as to his.-'vZ//, why should he 
tremble about that ? Who can doubt that God created 
us to be happy ; and thereto made us to love one ano' 
ther? which is plainly written in our hearts; whose 
every thought and work of love is happiness, and as 
plainly written as the gospel ; whose every line 
breathes love, and every precept enjoins good works. 
Now, the man who has spent life in bravely denying 
himself every inclination that would make others 
miserable, and in courageously doing all in his power 
to make them happy, what has such a man to fear 
from death, or rather, what glorious things has he not 
"vO hope from it V 

Hearing one of his friends say that the methodists 
and baptists were progressing rapidly in some parts 
cf the state^ he replied, " Weil, thank God for that ; 
that is good news." The same gentleman then asked 
him which he thought was the best religion. " I know 
but one religion," he ansv/ered, "and that is hearty 
love ot God and mnn. This is the only true religion ; 
and I would to (iod our countrv was full of it. ^or 
it is the only spice to embalm and to immortalize 
our republic. Any politician can sketch out a finp 
theory of government, but what is to bind the peo- 
ple to the practice ? Archimedes ustd co mourn that 
though his mechanic powers were resistible, yet 
he could never rcust' the ivorld; b- ase he had nc 
place in the heavens, whereon to fix o. pullies. Even 
so, cur republic will never be raised li lOve the shame- 
ful factions and miserable end of ali other govern- 
ments, until our citizens come to have thcii hearts 
like Archimedes' pullies, fixed on heaven. The world 
sometimes make such bids to ambition, that nothing 
but heaven can outbid her. Th^i heart is sometimes 
so embittered^ that nothing but divine love can sweeten 
It; so enrifgj^d^ that devotion only can becalm it; and 



GJEN. FRANCIS MAHION. 251 

so broke down, that it takes all the force of heavenly 
hope to raise it. In short, religion is the only sove- 
reign and controlling power over man. Bound b^ 
that, the rulers will never usurp, nor the people rebel. 
The former will govern like fathers, and the latter 
obey like children. And thus moving on, firm and 
united as a host of brothers, they will continue inviu" 
cible as long as they continue virtuous." 

When he was rear his end, seeing his lady weep- 
ing by his bedside, he gave her a look of great ten- 
derness, and said, ^' My dear, v/eep not for me, I am 
not afraid to die ; for, thank God, I can lay my hand 
on my heart and say, that since I came to man's es- 
tate, I have never intentionally done wrong to any." 

These were nearly his last words, for shortly 
after uttering them, he closed his eyes in the sleep 
of death. 

Thus peaceful and happy was the end of general 
Francis Marion, of whom, as a partisan officer^ ge- 
neral Greene has often been heard to say, that " the 
page of history never furnished his equal." And if 
any higher praise of Marion were necessary, it is to 
be found in the very remarkable resemblance between 
:iim and the great Washington. They bodi came 
orward. volunteers in the service of their country , 
they both learned the military art in the hard and 
Hazardous schools of Indian warfare ; they were both 
such true soldiers in vignlance^ that no enemy could 
ever surprise them ; and so equal in undaunted va- 
lour^ that ncthmg could ever dishearten them : v/hile 
as to the still nobler virtues of patience, disinterest 
edness, self-government, severity to themselves and 
gener(»sity to their enemies, it is diOirult to determine 
whether Marion or Washington most deserve ouf 
admiration. .VjkI even in the lesser incidents of their 
lives, the resemblance between these two great men 
is closer than common. TUev were both born in the 
Iftme )'ear J both lost their fathers in early life ; botli 



THE r.lFE OF GEN. MARION. 

married excellent ancl zvcalthij ladies; both left wi- 
dows ; and Ijoth died childless. 

The niiine of Marion continues dear to the people 
of the soiuh; and to this day, whenever his amialile 
widow ridt'S through the country, she meets tlie 
most pleasing evidences, that her husband, though 
dea<l, is nut forgotten. 7'he wealthy every where, 
treat her vv'ith the respect due to a mother ; while 
the poor, gath.ering around her carriage, off tn press 
to shake hands with her, then looking at ea^ \ other 
with a sigh they exclaim — '* That's thf widov. 
or oua GLORIOUS old Marion." 



'HE END, 






) n 



